late at night, or in the early morning hours,
(they are the same, in some moments)
he tells you he likes you, wants you to be his,
i watch this scene unfold and laugh at someone's joke
like my heart isn't being torn apart
by the way he looks at you.
i pretend not to have noticed when you tell me later on,
like my eyes aren't constantly glued to his face,
and i pretend to be happy for you and i laugh,
like my heart isn't stapled to his back.
tell me, what is it like
to have breathed such significance,
to be secure in the knowledge that he is yours,
that he wants you to be his forever?
i am unfamiliar with the feeling it could provoke
to hear him say he wants you, because he has never wanted me,
and i know now he never will.
i knew this before, of course, but the unambiguity of it
now rests on my shoulders, heavy as concrete.
he likes your tan skin and your bubbly laugh,
while i cut lines into my pale white flesh and want to die.
tell me, what is it like
to have his heart at your feet - how does it look, how does it feel?
i have never been close enough to know.
tell me, what is it like
to know that in one evening, you could make him yours
without ever meaning to, or even wanting to at first?
i am not angry at you, of course, i cannot blame you
for liking him - it is easy to do, i would know -
or him for liking you - i know everyone does.
tell me, what is it like
to know someone this beautiful finds so much beauty in you;
tell me, what is it like
to feel his heart beat for you more than anyone else?
but tell me nothing more, i beg of you,
for all i ask is all i can bear; i do not want to know
more than i know my heart can take knowing.
please tell me you will treat him well,
the way i would, if only i could,
and tell me that while he is yours, you will be his.
all i can ask for, with all my love, is his happiness.


cs