I’m really bad at this talk.
I know, because I’ve tried and failed
Plenty of times before.
And yet, here I am again.
I **** at this talk,
I **** at finding the right words.
That’s probably why I’ve written this poem
On the back of receipts thousands of times
And each time they end up crumbled
In the bottom of my backpack.
We kissed last night.
And people look different after you kiss them.
Some people look like the solution
To all of your problems
And the love connection you’ve worked so hard to find.
And yet,
Other people look like awkward run-ins
In the school cafeteria
And late nights wondering the subtext of said kiss.
Did it really actually mean something
Or was the liquor bullying us to do so.
I’m really bad at this talk,
So I guess I’m just tired of wondering.
Because I meant what I said that night
As we held hands on the couch,
Did you?