The glimmer in your eye
          doesn’t shine the way I remember.
There’s still kindness in your gaze,
          but it feels hollow.
Your eyes look worn,
          like you haven’t slept in years.
Do you even remember
          who you are?
Still I give you the coffee
          that you might love more than me.
So I can sleep next to you
          while you stay up at night.

You look better when I close my eyes.
Because I’m a horrible person
a horrible person who still thinks of her when I’m with you.
Yet again, when I’m with her, who I was gets lost.
because honestly, I was broken
—She broke me—
I am broken, but you’ve seen me as whole.

I want to annotate your margins with my mouth.
Then I wanna arch you, till your spine curves.
I’ll take your pretty cover off and touch your soft paperback.
To affirm the words you wrote to me,
So forth, I’ll even say: And I, you.
So I, so you; so much.
You’re so then, such a good girl.
I’d use you and reuse you, maybe even never, ever let go.
You make me turn to our next chapter.
So, I do.

If I shot at a number line,
The chance of hitting it exactly would be 0,
Because a line made only of points has no width,
And points themselves have no size.

So it is impossible to pick a specific point.

So if I had, or did, shoot my shot,
I’d have no chance,
Because she is only his,
And he is hers.

So it is impossible to shoot my shot at her.

What
if
I
was
just

























Gone?

Did you even hear me?
   I heard every single me, humbled?