Turn pages in books I've read before.
Like old friends, they remind me of who I used to be.

Stir sugar into black coffee.
The only sweet part of my day.

Fold clothes you've never seen me wear.
I have more than I used to.
Nothing ever seems to fit me right.

Gently graze the arm of a boy,
who will never mean anything to me.
He doesn't know how to keep a conversation.
Your arms are strong enough to hold me.

Write words, in ink, on paper you'll never find.
I don't want you to know what I'm thinking.
I burn them shortly after.

Scrub myself clean of all my sins.
I'm never truly unblemished.
You'll just make me filthy again.

They wait.
But I won't hold my breath.