In your life, you meet people. Some you never think about again. Some, you wonder what happened to them. There are some that you wonder if they ever think about you. And then there are some you wish you never had to think about again. But you do.
Having feelings for someone is scary because that gives them the power to hurt you.
I ask you all the normal questions
"How old is she?"
"How did you meet?"
And mumble a lot of
Mhm’s and I see’s
When I really just don’t care
about the answer anyway.
What I really want to know is
if her hair is blonde and long
(you always liked me best that way)
If her eyes are blue like the sky
(mine are always at storm)
If her lips open for you like a rose
(everything in me opened for you)
If her face is as wide and as calm as the ocean
(you used to love this about me)
If her body is full of curves and valleys
(you always found this beautiful and gentle)
If her hands fit yours when you hold them
(everything was okay when you held me)
If her eyes light up when she looks up at you across the table
(like mine did whenever I looked at you)
If the sound of your name in her mouth feels right
(I used to whisper in your ear)
If she moves her tongue across your thighs
(I loved to watch your face as I felt you)
If her moans against your neck are enough
(Baby, baby please)
If she is enough
(I used to be)
I want to know if
she’s anything like me
or if you
even want her to be.
You post pictures of naked girls while I post sad poems about you that you’ll see, but pretend you didn’t. And that’s the way it will be from now on. Until the sad poems stop and you wonder where I am. And you know what? I don’t think you’ll ever get the chance to know.