it's 5 a.m.

you’re tired ,

that's the only time

you seem to want me.

whether it's alone

in your bedroom

under the sheets

or it's with your friends

in a crowded cafe,

it's only when you’re tired.

when you’re awake,

you won't put your lips on my edges.

you’re too busy touching over lovers,

rummaging through papers,

calling your friends,

laughing.

you seem to forget who woke you up.

who made you warm.

and tomorrow you will be tired again

and i will still let you

put your lips

on my edges

though i know

when you're awake

you won't need me.

but

my heart is bigger

than my head.

i am

so so warm,

and you are

so so cold.

cold enough to use me.

i - warm enough to not care.

because

you are so much happier

when

you’re awake.

fireplaces are made to keep houses warm but mine only filled my house with smoke and coated my clothes with ash. sweaters that look soft are actually itchy when you put them on, and there is such a thing as coffee with too much cream and sugar, i’ve tasted it myself and that sickly sweetness wouldn’t leave my tongue for months and months and months until the flowers started blooming again. thanksgiving is a holiday without presents. and when i was using my fists to punch holes in the walls i realized that rooms aren’t actually rooms they’re just four walls filled with air, and that i need something to ground me.