I wasn’t ****** at first
then I remembered that time
when I almost told you I loved you
but my lips met yours before I could spill

My teeth chattered and I blamed it on the cold,
on skimpy going out clothes and patriarchal *******
because what do you do when someone breaks you in half
and the best you could think of is to pretend that you’re angry
and pretend your world isn’t dissolving on high street
into drunken chaos and blinking crosswalk signs
trying to keep shaking legs moving forward
while your earth stops turning ?

What I wanted to ask you was
Have you ever tried to ease a memory as it was happening?

Because all I could think was
no, this can’t be part of my history
and no, I wont let this be a part of me

Because I let myself fall for you
because I fell for a coward
who wasn’t brave enough
to also fall for me.

when I left

I kissed you square on the nose,
straining to reach you on my tippy toes
with my tears on your bleach stained shirt,
I said that I don't believe in goodbyes

when I left

you said goodbye when I couldn't.
(I should have understood that)

There’s a difference between
A rushed drunken collision on a futon
Restless hands companied by eager lips

And when you told me that you lived for people too
and I couldn’t keep the words “kiss me”
from spilling out of my jaw.

You really ****** me over with this brand new feeling
because now drunk hands can’t possibly fill
that bittersweet void you opened.