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Sep 2019
when you bump me in the kitchen I want to cry at your touch
and I don't even know what I want when you look me in the eyes
I watch your back as you walk past me, tears welling while you grab another beer
I wish I could make you laugh but frankly I hate the sound of it now, knowing I only hear it booming from rooms I'm not in
I sit in the dark rooms of this unfamiliar home waiting for you to turn the light on, open the blinds, to sit next to me.
Maybe just us this time,
maybe just my words filling your time.
Is it wrong to crave hands, any hands, any eyes, wanting to be on mine?
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