she gave me letters
i always thought they were real
i knew they were, until
the burning came

she gave me necklaces,
if these turn rusty, i'll leave
until now, i have never worn them
i never wanted them to be rusty.

she gave me stuffed toys,
this one will sleep on the right side of your bed,
because you always wake up on that side
so that you'll think of me first thing in the morning

she spoke words
and numbers
and screamed to me
whispers of a loud night

i gave back more;
necklaces, bracelets
kisses and tight hugs
movies and strong hands
stuffed toys and letters, too

above all, i gave her songs to sleep with,
poems to live by
and promises to look forward to

she told me
*you shouldnt have,
we both knew we were never enough for each other,
right?