She owns the taste of your lips
Your goosebumps belong to Her.
Her hands slide down your hips,
the rest of the story is a blur
because I closed my eyes
and dreamt again,
that maybe by surprise
you two wouldn’t be more than friends.
I couldn’t watch the way She held you,
I tried to numb the pain.
My hands turned a grey hue
and on my white t-shirt, it stained.
I thought I had forgotten.
I thought I was fine.
But She tugged on your cotton,
you were Her’s, not mine.
Then with your brown eyes, you looked at me,
with Her arm around your waist.
I start to drown in the sea,
my flooding body aches.
So this is where I make my bed.
Where I struggle to breathe.
As the water rises to my head
and my heartbeat doesn’t seem to retrieve.