I’m so scared to tell you
But I’m afraid your heart is leaking
For years now it’s been seeping the fluid into your mouth
In big puddles you spat it out
Now where there should be motivation there is only weeping
I stepped in your puddles when I was little
They soaked into my feet and filled me up past my teeth
Now that it is gone from you I hope there is enough to share
But if there isn’t, I don’t want it
I’ll give it back to you
I’ll speak it until my voice is hoarse
I’ll spit it at your feet with no remorse
If it comes to it
I will squeeze all the fluid out of my heart
I will use it to wash your feet
It will soak in and fill you past your teeth
Then you can take a step forth
And my heart will fill up again
Upon seeing you as you were then

Do people really enjoy feeling like this?
I would like these memories to dry with the kisses you left on my neck,
But my skin is starting to absorb them.
I would appreciate it if these feelings would float away with the breath you blew in my ear,
But I would never be so lucky.
You left butterflies in my tummy,
I can feel them starting to rot.

Grass tickles my feet.
There’s a penny on the ground.
I pick it up with my toes.
(The way I would have when I was little.)
I hand the penny to you and tell you today’s going to be lucky.
You call me a dork and touch your lips to mine.
(I always liked how tall I was, you didn’t have to bend over to kiss me.)
I run and tell you to catch me.
When you do we fall to the ground giggling.
We lay there together.
Your hands are so warm on my legs.
(That was one of the first things I noticed about you when we met, how warm your hands were.)
When I wake up you are still asleep and I cannot feel your hand on my leg.
I stare at the wheel chair by the bed.