I’m here with another guy while my hair hides the mark lingering on my neck that you left a few nights ago
And I don’t know why I always go out with boys who say their “a’s” the same way, where the “e” is supposed to go, the boys from philly and long island who have a temper
And whenever you’re out of town I see him because I know that you don’t miss me
I know you aren’t thinking of me right now
You only think of me when I’m standing right in front of you,
With my heart dangling from my tired hands,
Offering the bloody mess endlessly to you, the boy made of stone
And you only love me when it’s 1 am,
Whispered under unwashed rumpled sheets that smell like my raspberry perfume
So that no one can hear
No one can know
So when I tell other people they won’t believe me
Because when you see them you hold your head up high, proud,
Not looking at me as you tell stories of other girls
And I patiently listen, nodding my head at all the right places,
Waiting for you to take me home
So you can tell me that you love me again
Even if it is only after your tongue tastes like Yuengling
And the lights are all off
And you whisper so the words won’t stick to the walls of your apartment
And only I can hear
Only my ears are filled with those three words that seem ethereal
I always wait for a beat for you to snatch them away
Take them back as quickly as you said them
But you only take them away when someone asks you
And I’m not there to fight back.
If only they could see the soft way that you hold me against you
And hear the way your breath hitches when you ask me about other guys
And feel the way you kiss me, lightly first, then hungrily,
Angrily,
Like you cant stand the fact that you are in love with me.
It seems as if we have something in common
Poetry
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A physical connection melded with despondent desire of emotion