My reflection shows in the mirror and
my rib cage protrudes from my skin
my hip bones jut out.
My hands run over my skin before I pull
a shirt over my head and pants up my legs.
You used to purposely freak me out.
You would **** in and skin would almost dissolve under your bottom rib.
You wanted me to stick my hand under your ribs, pressing into the dissolved skin.
That's the only part that freaked me out, pressing under your rib cage.
I didn't care that you could **** in and have your ribs show one by one.
I didn't care that you had me feel the dip in your sternum.
You used to pull your sweatpants down your thighs when you sat down.
There would be a skinny slot that the shorts you wore underneath and your boxers would leave because they hung onto your bulging hipbones.
I was to get over you.
I didn't fall for you until you showed your interest in me.
Finally, I began to like you in a way I never planned.
I was to get over you
that was the plan.
But you still have my head spinning
thinking I was stupid enough to fall again
and
here I am,
writing you a poem,
because hard work to keep myself in shape
even reminds me of you.
I guess I'm able to say life was about living for the night when I was with you
because talking to you alone got my mind off things and allowed me to have fun.