A Headache That Comes With Love #3 Poem by A Waltz For Zizi

I grew up on the things you
threw. I fed on them

my entire life, I fed on you,
on the skin you shed

on the hair tangled in your
brush, on the napkins

that touched your lips and your lap and
ended up in garbage bins,

on the fingerprints and lipstick marks
your coffee cup stole

and as you went to sleep,
I crept near you

like a moth and fed on the air
you exhaled,

that's how I ended up here naked
and drunk.