you were never supposed to be the 'you' in my poems
but you are right now
that spot was always reserved for another boy
but both of you took a piece of me with you on the fifth of January
you both kissed me when i was too afraid to lean in
you both left me when i finally did
i always thought you were the color red
with the morals of summer
but you're really the rip in my tights
and the sound of crashing airplanes
i'm terrified of you
the way you always leave like it's nothing
i know you'd like me if i cried less
that makes me want to cry more
you're too happy and carefree to understand why i'm writing this
and i wouldn't want you any other way