you picked me up in your mother’s white car, 7:30 pm almost two hours late

we drove around and ended up at the beach, sitting on the pier, words spilling out of our mouths making up for lost time

when the sunlight faded we walked down the shore until we saw the big dipper over the waves

you laid your beach towel right next to mine on the sand, it was the first time i started to wonder what you were planning

hours later we found ourselves tangled up in blankets and bodies and you traced your thumb in circles on my elbow, hot breath on my neck and we were so close, lips hovering, a precipice, nearly

and you almost had me, you almost got me

but when we were wrapped in each other's arms, staring at the waves, you whispered

i care about you, but this doesn’t mean a thing

i guess i never knew the stars could fall out of the sky like that, all at once

i wish i was something more to you than an object to be used, and the thing that keeps getting me is i thought you were incapable of treating other people like they didn’t matter, but you curled up in my skin and now it is all stretched out and shaped like you and i can’t fix it and i wish it didn’t matter but it matters, holy **** it matters

you drove me home at two in the morning and didn’t even turn on the radio, but when you parked in front of my mother’s house we both started saying words all at once and i wish i could’ve got to hear yours before i slammed the door in your face

i’ll always have a bruise that looks just like you