tangled up with you
and i forget
where i begin
and you end

i am but a blip
on this timeline
but you make me feel
like i'm the entire thing

to you
you never made it up to me
but to me
you did it in so many ways

when you let me play my music
on the way to your grandparents

when we start to walk through the same door
and you always let me go

when we begin talking at the same time
and you always let me tell my story
even if i forget what it was
or laugh half way through
or even cry

when I said no gifts on my birthday
and you still showed up with one

when i was trying to tell everyone a story
and you made sure i knew you were listening
even when no one else was

to you
you never made it up to me
but to me
maybe i need to make up some things
for you

​i love you
but you'll never look at me
like you look at her
or your guitar
or your nephew
but i will learn to love myself
like i've done before
and look at myself
the way i wanted you to

it's complicated
i tell her
as i grip on to
the same coffee cup
i've been drinking from
for 2 weeks straight
because i wake up tired
because i don't sleep
because it's not complicated
that you just don't love me

your hands still burn on my waist
your fingers would pat
and your hand would move

up and down against my waist
almost touching my ribs
our height feeling miles apart

your thumbs would run across my bone
i could feel your hands burn through the fabric
of the cheap red dress

you hummed along to a humdrum song
a song I’d heard a million times
a song I never get sick of

your fingers caressed my back
and moved like they did on a piano
and reminded me what caring touch felt like

your hands still burn on my waist
barely touching my ribs
leaving me empty