I.
i dont know how to be something that
you call home
and ive tried so hard
but everynight it rains
youre always sleeping
in someone elses bed

literally and figuratively

II.
im writing poetry for someone who
i have never met
i thought i was making love
with these words for you
but im not

III.
im still upset that you
cant see how bad this hurts
ill never admit it
because complaining fixes nothing
so what is it worth
i dont know why
it hurts this much anyway

IV.
but i have my mind
chained and *******
like some kind of beast
sometimes i miss when
people called me crazy

V.
being insane-
like an old friend
or love letters from your first
boyfriend in a box under your bed
i just want things to
be okay

VI.
the window pane is a friendly
reminder that i am allowed
to leave whenever
i wish
and these tired eyes
tell me that everything
will in fact
be okay