“I wish I could put you in my pocket.”

And I wish I could fit.

I have that sick to my stomach feeling.
Sure wish it would go away.
I’m worried about what he’s doing,
who he’s with
as if I have any right to even wonder.
I hate that I still love him.
Something I haven’t even wanted to admit
to myself.

The ground is literally sparkling,
not just
because a light frost
is reflecting off the sun.
I just tip toed into my parents house
with huge pupils and messy hair
wearing someone else’s Halloween shirt
that says, Let’s get smashed.

But at least I wasn’t driving.

I’ll skip the color and just say
that’s it’s nice to have a nice boy
enjoy you.