i have spent the last three days humbled
on hands and knees, relinquishing all of myself
into the welcoming mouth of the toilet seat.
i don't know what is wrong with me.
i havent seen you for a while but i am certain that you hate me.
i can't help but think that this is my fault,
wonder if i should be giving more of myself-
something other than mucus and bile.

i look back on the day that i cut my hair,
embarrassed that all i had to give you was
a lock of it, a small insignificant piece of me, knowing that
you wouldn't have accepted all of me if i had offered.
i don't know how to show you that i've tied myself to you,
that you now possess a piece of the last nineteen years of my life.
i bet you threw me in a drawer or underneath the bed,
let me drop unnoticed behind the bookcase:
out of sight, out of mind.

i now know what lovesick looks like
although it is not the kind of love (or sickness)
that you would accuse me of being capable of. it is more like a mother
ripped away from her suckling child
by the guilt instilled in her through a man's laughing eyes.

i wish i could leave this body,
fly away to worlds untouched and forget you, but
i am still learning that we are rooted to this earth by hatred and hips,
destined to be left behind,
no lumps of flesh to save us,
flapping behind our backs or between our legs.

and when hagar looked down upon his beautiful face and froze,
i'm sure she contemplated driving that knife
in the centered nook right below her own ribcage,
confused as to which she should aim for:
the heart or the womb,
both equal conspirators in her shame.

i remember
that one time when you lay in my bed, still,
your head a mess of curls peeking from the sheets.
i smiled, warmed that you had chosen to stay, knowing
that i wouldn't have been able to ask you to on my own.
the movie ended, and
we crawled into bed, the springboard groaning
under the weight of two, the twin-sized duvet straining its
stitches to cover both of our bodies, although in the end
i let you have it, let you twist around in the sheets
like a kitten laying down to nap.

i came up with every excuse not to sleep that night.
loud noises, flight fright, stuffy air, but maybe
i just wanted to lie next to you with my eyes wide open.
my body took in everything: the restlessness, the
quiet moans, the perplexed face that looked very concentrated
on sleeping. sometimes you were so still i would lightly
touch your back, just to make sure you were still breathing.

do you remember?
that night that i looked down at you and cried.
i think you must have known because
when i crawled into your arms for solace, you welcomed me.
your hot skin burned mine,
and your heart beat so fast that i was still, and listened closer
(although thinking back on it now, it could have been
the watch i wear around my neck, mischievously ticking away in my ear.)
in that moment, before i let go out of embarrassment and overheating,
something in my heart clicked-
right then, i knew that i could have loved you.

the next morning, we shook hands, made our goodbyes short,
and laughed about it afterwards.