i am holding tightly onto the belief that
if i keep the words to myself,
they will not become real.
because if i say them aloud
my fate becomes public property,
and i do not trust the world with the contents of my heart.
but i am losing the ability
to keep the seams from bursting.
and i cannot deny the truth to myself.
oh, my heart is so full of love for him!
my best friend, the one who sees my sorry mind
and the poor jokes and the past pain.
my favorite drunk kiss.
i knew all along that i could never let him touch me like that
and just go back to normal.
in the late summer heat he kissed my neck
and my grip on reality has slipped,
slowly,
as the leaves fell and the winter winds bit my lips.
infrequently tracing his fingers on my thigh,
smiling with a secret shining through his teeth.
my heart is all his if he would just pick it up
but it lies at his feet and he stoops down
and fakes me out,
my breath catching in my throat with anticipation.
and then he stands back up.
and sometimes he goes to someone else for the night.
and that pain is like pressing a bruise.
but i would give all the rest up,
let him bruise me in the worst ways
if it meant he would bruise me in the best ways.
i think he's afraid, even more than i am.
when the alcohol seeps through our judgement
and passes from his skin to mine
all i want is for time to freeze,
or to keep moving, but with him as mine
and me as his.
oh... if he would call me his...
my heart could stop happily.
and i wish i weren't so pathetic for him,
or that i was, but only if he were equally pathetic for me.
i know i can't breathe anymore without loving him.
and that is a terrible knowledge
when he is just a friend.