We had Indian food that night. And you said you liked it even though you didn’t finish your meal. I sat next to you and watched football even though I had homework to do. I moved my feet to fit under your legs and hoped that the touch was stirring feelings in you like it to me. When I looked out of the corner of my eye, you weren’t staring at me like you normally did. And when our knees touched you didn’t look me in the eye. I think I knew things were different when your face didn’t light up when you saw me; when I could feel your heart race when she texted you, but not when I smiled at you. I don’t have the right to feel these things, but it doesn’t mean I don’t. we haven’t spoken in twenty two hours and every second you’re not around I feel like I’m being held under water and am choking on my own breath. This isn’t a break up but all I feel is you letting me go and me letting it happen. “I just want to kiss you and make all the pain go away.” I may not be her but I am me and I really want that to be enough. I am here waiting even though you told me not to. I am here waiting to pick up all the little pieces of you and fit them into all the missing pieces of me. That day you held my hand and said it felt right, I’m sorry I didn’t answer; I’m sorry I let your words hang in the air and then fall to the ground. This is me trying to show you how I feel, in a poem you’ll never see.
I want to sit next to you on this couch and watch King of the Hill. I want our knees touch and to belong to each other like they had for so long. I want to feel all the emotion you have to give that I was once so scared of. This is me trying to show you how I feel, in a poem you’ll never see.