You undress depression in the way I
willingly take off my clothes when
I've had too much to drink.

You miss the days when the only
body you touched
wasn't your own,
and if a lover ever ****** you over,
you would want them to *******
like they owed you an apology.

It's funny how love is synonymous with mistake.
We're all biting out tongues over someone we hoped would
look at us in the same way
we looked at them.

You would hope that one day your
lover would acknowledge how
unbalanced you are without
your counterpart,
and if their silence meant stay,
then you would keep
the back door unlocked
just in case.