You are the funniest person I have ever met.
Perhaps that's why when you're gone
everything around me feels colder
and more unbearable
than it has before.

You have made me happier than I have ever known.
So I'm not sure why recently
I've been waking up with a lump in my throat
and a heaviness in my limbs that causes me to crawl,
bent over,
broken.

I am so unbelievably scared.
Scared that you're going to turn round and tell me this was a mistake.
Scared that you're going to realise
that I'm not who you thought you wanted.

I don't know what else you could do
to make me feel any safer.
But I feel so vulnerable,
so incredibly close
to the edge of the cliff side
that I can hardly catch my breath
and I can feel the hands on my back
ready to push.

Is it too much to want for you to message me first?
Is it too much to want to feel your hand on my back?
Is it too much to hope you'll reach for me on a morning?
Am I stupid for being terrified that you lie awake at night
wishing I was her?
I wait for the day that you *** and say her name
instead of mine.

I thought we were sat on the same step,
even.
But now I feel myself looking up to you,
reaching out
and you don't even look down.