I dressed in the clothes

that Halsey bought for me.

But they weren’t for me,

and wearing them

made me feel unlike myself.

I came undone, holding my tongue,

splitting hairs as I sewed seams

to these jeans that I’d have worn

in the nineties.

But God knows, I’ve grown since then.

I forced a smile over autumn cider

without apples to satiate

Halsey’s fierce appetite

for adoration adorned her pride.

I wish giving second chances came

with warning labels.

Bold letters should explain

that Halsey was combustible

when pissed at the insistence

that I had a side chick

who doesn’t exist.

But I know her now.

I heard the woman’s name every time

I walked through the door after eight.

I decided to withdraw the change

that Halsey admired in me.

I blew out my lips

and spat it out.

I am who I am,

so respect my name.

And from now on,

I’ll buy my own clothes.

By Andy Cooper

From: United States

Website: https://drinkcoffeewrite.online/

Twitter: AC0040