You’re cute with your fitted khakis that
I want to burn and bury
And the way that nothing bothers you even when
I yearn for you to care, she

Doesn’t need to know how we call each other late at night
Drugs and darkness our excuse for acting self-indulgent
Excuses formed through guilt, but now we accept them in the daylight
Because it feels all right

I feel all right

I like you in your blue button down shirt that
Smells like your bed and disaster
When that afternoon after I knelt to you
Unspoken, we decided to move past her

I wish I were a writer
So these words I twist and turn, attempting to form thoughts
Analyzed by readers and thinkers and lovers alike
Would more accurately explain what’s going on in my brain

I hope she feels all right

I love her and I love you
And I hate that I love you
And I love that I love you
And I want to love with everything I am

I know this isn’t coming out right at all
What I’m trying to say is I have
Developed these feelings that we knew we would
But said we wouldn’t and

Here I am, exposed