I missed my chance to breathe.
Up the stairs, you took my hands.
Close the door, in the room of no rest,
Traced my silhouette with your kiss.
You once seemed to be okay with being alone.
And even though I cry, you persist.
When we first met, I would persist.
In between sets we would talk and breathe.
I was happy, for the first time in months I was not alone.
We giggled and made praise with our hands.
That night I called you back for a public kiss.
And that night, my heart on my sleeve, I could get no rest.
And every night after that, how did I rest?
How could I still persist?
I did everything for a kiss,
How could I even breathe?
I’ve created a monster by using my own hands.
See what happens when I get left alone?
“Don’t worry,” you said “I won’t leave you alone.”
I remember you called for directions on the night of no rest,
Your voice (and doom) in my heart and hands.
You won’t pull any tricks. Nothing to worry about, you persist.
“I miss you so much I cannot breathe”
When we see the party, we kiss.
And anywhere we go (for just that night and no other) we kiss,
I was awkward, uncomfortable, and far from alone.
Those substances you seemed to breathe,
You would have been drunk enough for the both of us to justify no rest.
Justified or not, you persist,
And hold me down with your hands.
You held my individuality in your hands,
Took it away with your touch and kiss.
“Here, have this drink, and let me touch…” you still persist.
But I would rather be alone!
Please, can’t we just talk and rest?
But no, you would not let me breathe.
Only a boy like you would persist with your hands.
I tried to breathe but could kiss,
And at night, alone, I think so much of being a lid I cannot rest.