Don’t ever tell me again
that you know,
that you understand -
you don’t and you can’t.
Because you are who I used to be;
breaking hearts and losing count
of the amount of times you kissed someone
just to feel warmth in your frigid, wandering body.
I know who you are,
and I knew before I let my lips breathe your name
the very first time
that I could never make a home inside
a body as cold as yours.
I tried anyway.

You can’t understand.
but just know,
that someday you’ll fall in love
(not with a girl)
with a woman’s collarbones
and freckles, and
sleepy conversations at 3 am.
You will understand,
and you will know,
when she wrenches out your heart
and watches it fall to the bottom
of the Pacific,
because she doesn’t have time for love
or you, or loose ends.
She moves one thousand miles a minute,
and you will understand
what it feels like
to make a home inside a heart
that doesn’t want you.