I want to be your first
And I want to be your last.

I want to be the first person you text
as you wake up in broad daylight
And I want to be the last you see
as you yawn and call it a night.
I want to be the first to hear that joke
you thought up in a Biology class
And I want to be the last you’d want
to respond with a few vacuous laughs.

I want to be the first you tell of
a scalding sensation on the way home
And I want to be the last ingredient
to your creation — your critic over the phone.
I want to be the first you ask
what jacket and shoe colors suit you more
And I want to be the last to
be blamed if your heart feels a sore.

I want to be the first to see you draw up
a plan for a dream you’ve had for years
And I want to be the last beside you
if it fails and you’re drenched in tears.
I want to be the first thing that comes
to you when you hear the word “happiness”
And I want to be the last to know that
all along, what I’ve been rejecting is your best.

I want to be your first
And I want to be your last
But I can never be your first,
A question still if I will be your last.
For now, I am happy that I am
Neither your first nor your last
Rather, that I just am.