when i think of us i feel your laughter
press through me, reaching to somewhere
i am not—the feeling fades, but
something lingers, like the stench
of burnt flesh
It is the number 2,547,360 it's the amount of minutes between the day my sister was born and the day that I was born. My sister means more than anyone else and I would do anything for her, so today we got matching tattoos. I love her so much <3
cute girl, in class—so cute, wow,
way outta my league—comes over to study,
which i actually thought we were going to do;
sits on my bed, one leg pulled beneath
her frame; i sit too—begin looking
through notes.
she says something, quietly—the words
fragile and unprepared, too honest, and
i wonder if she wanted to be heard
—"you're distracting me."
i look up—beautiful blue eyes, just wow,
so beautiful, like cryptic, changing in
the light of my room—"how so?"
she smiles and breathes deep, looks
almost expectantly at my hands, still
gripping the notes, so dumb—"i can't do this."
i laugh—nervous, i like her, my fingers
shake—"you can't do what?"
i say it and look away, my eyes
run—she leans close and then closer
and i see her—leaning close and then
closer, with those hopeful, parted lips.
i lean in—we kiss, just once—the edges
of my teeth drag along her bottom lip.
smiling, she retreats; i move back,
and breathe deep—"so...we're studying?"
she laughs—quite loud and i like it, this
confidence, i don't have it—"babe...you
really wanna study now?"
(babe...what is it, this word, i haven't heard it
in months, and yet it tears through my flesh,
leaving no trail, only pain—i can't respond.)
her hand finds my arm, and i'm still looking
at her, but i'm not looking at her—"do you want
this, because i've wanted this, and i thought
you wanted this, but...do you want this?"
i turn my eyes towards my hands, the notes
and the pen, i'm shaking my head and i laugh,
quite loud actually—"i'm sorry, but
of course i want this."
she grabs the notes, tosses
the pages on the floor and they scatter;
i drop the pen off the edge of the bed
and i can hear it hit.
she pauses and pushes me down
towards the bed—she smiles, "i'm
glad you want this"—she kisses
me, and for the moment, i'm happy.
and hopefully, so much more than me--cause
i'm broken, and have been or has been, i'm really
not quite so sure of when, but right now you just
make so much fucking sense.
