I’m Sorry

The truth, though, is that the last time I held a bunch of roses I threw them in the trash, and most of my bruises are from volleyball, and I really don’t know where the scratches on my body are coming from, and I don’t know what Russia looks like, and I’ve never slept on my fire escape or kissed a nurse, and I don’t know shit about angels, and I sweat even more than I cry, and I skip maybe a meal every day, and I remember everything. And sometimes I need to pretend.