i was in love more times than i can count
before i met you in the heat of summer
in the wrong coffee shop
on the wrong street
but maybe i was never in love before you

every girl who’s hands have mingled with mine
have always felt forced
and clammy
and fleeting
and bounding

it was anxiety hugging my body
tighter than any of them ever could
and a cloud of desperation
separating them from me
love was always about power
or who could lust the hardest

i always won.
i always left first.

you’ve showed me that isn’t love at all
but i beg the questions
what is love
who am i to say
who are you to give it to me
who are we to create feelings only we can feel

we are artists making notes of reactions
while we show each other a world we never knew existed
the things that have always happened
in our peripheral vision
but never felt important to notice

this is what i want to feel
freedom.
freedom.
freedom.