It's 11:57 and I want to text you
I just want to talk to you so badly
And I can't believe my love
Has been reduced to a few pixelated words that appear on your phone screen
But it's 11:57
And I want to text you

I want to text you
But these numbers seem too familiar
Instead of texting you
I'm trying to decode 11:57

11?
11
That's how many pieces of chocolate you bought me for no reason
After I told you months ago
What my favorite type was
I remember you handed me the box
Saying
"Chocolates for the sweetest girl in the world"
They tasted like ****
But we're the best thing I ever ate
Because they came from you
Except now
Any chocolate I eat
Doesn't remind me of you anymore

5
That's how many times you traced my lips
With your index finger
As if the outlines defining my lips
Was a map to your way home
But little did I know
That you had built
Many other places
You called "home"
Soon after
I made my "home" too
Not on anyone
But in the comfort of my own self
So I wouldn't be destroyed once again


7?
7
7!
That's how many beauty marks
Cover my face
And that's how many times
You used to kiss my face
I told you I thought they made me look no better than any other girl
But you told me each one made me
Look so beautiful
Its just skin
The beauty marks are skin
It's always been skin
It's good skin
No matter what metaphor you compared it to

It's 11:57
And I want to text you
But I'm not
And never will.