i had a sleepover with a friend
we talked all night about my lover
who wanted me sometimes
i talked and mused about him all night
as if i didn't know that we were never meant to be
in the morning i put on my shoes again
i left for work but i left my soul in bed—talking
about him made him alive and had me died
so i sat in my desk caught in a daydream and cried all-day
i skipped work the next day just to feel
the sorrow into the bones