Monday, April 20, 2009

Not exactly about how
‘sense’ is spelled ‘since’
but more about how
you left your red Mountain Dew
in my car today, and I
almost put it in your mailbox
but I was afraid of the cat that might
think I’m its best friend again
giving me a
guilt trip.

Not quite like how you
ask me weird questions
that I can barely answer, but
more like memories we shared,
enjoying each other like
every day was just another day
when in reality it was a dream,
but I was too afraid to open my eyes
because I knew it would
stop.

Maybe sort of like how
your friends are dramatic,
leading each other down the wrong paths
while we watch, I amazed,
but closer to how I
seem to hang on your every text
because I love it when you talk to me
and yet it all seems to be
inconsistent, unusual, unfair, and unavoidable
at the same time, but irreparable
and spectacular.

Not only about that
one time you dressed up like a hooker,
but that time that we talked for an hour
neither of us wanting to hang up,
and then you texted me your secret
that I wasn’t allowed
to tell, and we still
haven’t told, between smiles and
sex’ms, and occasionally
a discussion on
pre menstrual tennis balls.

Not precisely, but similar to
when you rearrange your room
and I try to help but instead I
epic fail,
yet maybe closer to how
you can control how I feel about
myself just by saying
one comment, one thing,
and completely swaying my
confidence.

Like that one time
that you came to my house
crying, crying like I had never seen
anyone cry before,
unable to let things go
because of the pain,
because of her stabbing slowly into you,
and all I could do to help
was hold you,
but that’s all I really needed
to do.