when you told me you loved me
i thought i was safe
because you said it first
and you said it fully
and you said it with a desperation behind your eyes

i said it back
but a few days later
and timidly
and with fear

we said that we loved each other
and I think that we meant it
i did.
but now i question everything

i knew we weren't perfect
nothing ever is
but love is funny

like a white male comic
who spews ****** jokes
but still gets the laugh

i keep finding pieces of you
in my room
in my car
in my heart

i wanted to tell you about the new exhibit
at the museum
where we looked at the small rooms
and we laughed in each others company

i wanted to tell you that i saw a movie
and you would have loved it

i wanted to tell you that the silence hurts me
that it feels heavy and angry in its weightlessness

that your absence is greater than your presence

if only we had gone to see
more movies
or laughed a little harder
or taken care of ourselves
in the way we aren't capable of doing

if only i had texted less
texted more
been ever-present
and invisible at the same time

if only what you wanted was possible

if i could turn back the clock
to the day you told me you loved me
i wouldn't change a thing.