I will wake up naked tomorrow.
My clothes already thrown into a pile on the floor.
I cry myself into a hazy stupor,
I am drunk on what we were
and what we could have been
what ifs are my downfall,
I would not drive in this condition.
you are my downfall
because of how much I still want to uplift
be the cheerleader and sit on the sidelines
calling your name.
I hope you would do the same
but I cannot hope this,
I cannot cry knowing it felt right.
It felt like car rides with Frank Sinatra CDs.
It felt like it was supposed to when I was too afraid
to answer calls
sent them straight to voicemail
sent our love somewhere else.
I do not know much,
but I know I will wake up naked
not because I’ve touched myself
but the idea
of having anything besides you
against my skin feels painful,
feels like a mistake,
like seeing you in a crowd of faces and not being able to tell.
I have forgotten your lips
and how it feels
when we are in bed together.
It is black and blue
a heart should not bruise
but here I am,
with left over wounds.
I want to kiss it and make it better.
I think you do too.
It is the same
with an aching space between
how can it be the same
when everything is so different?
Everything felt beautiful.
And like I was finally home.