"you'll grow out of him"
my brother's whiskey stained voice
whispers words i hear too loud

i won't.

"he's not good for you"
my mother's wide eyes
try to convince me

he is.

"you don't actually believe y'all will actually end up together do you?" my best friend stares straight
in a reminiscent daydream, nothing but
mistrust and the scars of encountering
artificial love in her eyes

i do, i tell her.
and she shakes her head
grieving my heartbreak to come

"just promise me you won't love him too much"
my grandmother pleads as she runs her
fingers through my hair

what if i already do?