or was it the other way around?
when I made the decision to give myself to her, I felt my soul
yearn
to be torn apart
like cells splitting in half,
simply because
something within them
told them to

have you ever seen a mother make a sandwich for a child?
she uses this kind of jam
because that's the only kind they like,
and she cuts it just this particular way
so that it fits in their lunch box

I wanted to cut my heart into shapes that she would like.
coquette cookie cutters stamped into mounds of muscle
and arteries
and sinew
for a girl that said I was special

I tell my friends on the first day
she's the first person
to ask me out
and I tell my friends
everything about her
(I've always been bad at managing expectations)

[we met at my job.
she thought I was ten years older than I am. I thought
she was three years older]

and a week later when she tells me she isn't ready for a relationship, I will tell her I'm not either
(I've always been a liar)

"who is, really?" she asks, relieved
I don't know how to answer that
because
(I've always been a *******)