It's not your fault
that when I'm curled around myself
on the ground
and I hear footsteps
approaching, quietly
you're not who I expect,
who I need to see
when I look up.

It's not your fault
that your hands on my back
and in my hair
are the wrong size
that your heartbeat against my ear
in your embrace
is the wrong rhythm
that your voice on the phone
telling me to be okay
has the wrong timbre.

It's not your fault
that when I hide in your arms
I'm trying to find my way
into someone else's,
arms I will never find.

It's not your fault
that I go searching for a dead boy
and find you instead,
I am not disappointed
I was just
hoping.