there are too many pockets of air in between the fabric
of all my ***** clothes and
we can't leave our thoughts in
open spaces

like this

anymore.

it's like looking at his smile and seeing what he's trying to hide,
those things are much too personal to be slurred from one bathroom stall
to another,
you always forget about all the people who don't wash their hands until it happens right in front of you.

I keep comparing you to:
all the people from my past.
She keeps comparing you to:
all the people from your past.
I don't want to miss you:
like all of those people from her past.

She looks at you like a vacuum would
but she feels like blue skies and tastes
like creamer or hot chocolate, thick
as she is you notice how thin she is
and point it out, try and make her eat
some of what you have to say although
you really don't know what it is she
needs to hear.

"that's why they call it confusion, honey,"
I had never seen you turn to stone before,
topaz and diamonds, "but crystals have souls."
and you have no idea what I'm talking about.