And there was your love,
stuck between the sheets and under
the bookshelf and behind my ears.
Though it couldn't get much worse,
you went on about your mother
and her calloused ways
and I was reminded of my father
and his calloused hands.
Once you begged me to stay -
hidden in your dresser drawer so you
could use me for when you
needed to feel like a person again.
There wasn't a time where I thought
I couldn't love you.
But there was your love,
blown around the room like dandelion parts
and I thought it couldn't get much worse.