I took a series of photos of what I looked like
in the morning when I’d just woken up.
My hair, always a mess
because I move around a lot in my sleep.
In some of them
I’m still drunk from the night before.
In some of them
the background changes
from the bathroom in my old apartment
with the paper-thin walls
to the pastel green with white trim
of my ex-whatever’s bathroom.
My eyeliner is still on
smeared all around my eyes
because I didn’t take it off
like I always do at home
because I wasn’t at home
I was with some dude.
In one photo I’m wearing his t-shirt
my eyes are barely open
and in several of them
I still look hammered.

I was sitting on a barstool
next to this guy
who fancies himself
some kind of outlaw cowboy,
but was really just another suburban drunk,
showing him the photos in my phone
and he laughed
and smiled
and told me
he didn’t know why
but it was kind of hot.

Where I should have seen a red flag,
I saw my in.

___________

Just for fun, here is most of that collection of photos. From a time when I was blonde, drunk, and had terrible judgment.