yes, i have other things to hold me together.
like poems that are dripping with you, and a small, shy cat who was once a stray like myself.
along with a ghostly stoner boy, who renames the colors of the rainbow and who speaks nonsense phrases, even when he's sober.
and a candle-flame girl who is covered in scars and who hides her pain in too-big hoodies, who hugs too tight and bleeds too easily and who doesn't know what a mistake falling for me will turn out to be, who draws me pictures and writes me love notes and cries into the night because she can tell that i ache for you still.
yes, you smartmouthed fool, i have other things to hold me together. but none of them are you.
Babydoll, I am so sorry. But I know myself far too well.