i'm not your lover or your friend.
i'm your crutch: your time machine
to tenth grade and dragons but
no dungeons, they didn't let the girls play

i knew our skins would absorb one another
and i never touched in fear for colors
dashed and blinding, killed.
i want to die an icecube, still

have you ever had a young love grow old?
your words are archaic and covered in mold
there's a hint of affection, still
i'm afraid that this time i'll ****.