so maybe it’s the way she stares
and sighs that your eyes
are like galaxies

like you’re ******* poetry
like you deserve it
like you’ve reserved it
and have been waiting for so long.

for all this time,
i’ve been blind
saying i’m high
when really, i’m not even a little bit high

hey,
this is for your own good,
they say, i have delusions;
but trust me, if i could, i would.

i would, i would, i would.
if only i could scream,
then i’d show to me
that’s not what you really mean.

because what you really meant
wasn’t to rouse my pent-
up feelings that were suffocated away,
released in the fray
of the moment.

empty envy
is probably the most unproductive
feeling i could admit.
but as always
i take what i can get.