Confetti Hangover 

when the shoes are off 

The dress lays crumpled in the corner 

Lipstick stains the champagne flutes and floors are sticky with celebratory remnants 

There is me. 

Wrapped in the sheets

Mascara stained cheeks. 

Crying because the party ended 

Rather than relishing in the joy that the party happened. 

Broken crown and lonely…I just hate when the music stops and all that’s left is the confetti. 

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