you speak in soft daggers.
I put on my best performance for you.
I bleed and bleed and bleed,
throwing towels on the floor beneath me.
love is an insatiable wound that can't be mended;
an affliction that will swallow me whole.
and though I am moribund,
I'm still apologizing for the mess.
I'm still thinking about the carpet.

I catch glimpses of you in spotted vision.
I hear your footsteps head towards the door.
I remembered to keep it unlocked this time.
the same love may never come twice,
but different love always leaves the same way.

I'm jealous of the sun,
for it gets to kiss your face every morning.
it gets to caress your cheeks,
and watch as your eyes flutter open,
a sight I long to see.

and I'm jealous of the moon,
for every night it gets to lull you to sleep.
as it cradles you in its soft light,
I wonder how it would be
if it were my arms around you instead.

and I'm not sure if this is potential.
you planted my hopes in love and let them grow.
this is a garden I was hesitant to tend to,
afraid it would wither once it had my attention.
but now the flowers are in bloom -
reaching for the sky,
the way I reach for you.