As I sat on my knees, staring down at the ugly church carpet
The pastor begging God to protect us.
I thought of the way your hands held me tightly in the theater
Whispering that you’d never let me get hurt.
“What would I do without you?” he says.
While my friends complained about our college exams
And I looked at their pretty faces blankly.
I remembered how bad last night was for you even to speak
And it killed me to see one-word responses that made you sound dead
“I don’t want to live.” he says.
In the moment, watching you quietly,
you started begging me to come over and sit in your lap.
I wondered if this would last forever as I had dreamed,
ignoring that it could end up cursed.
“What if we ended up getting married?” he says.
During our late-night call and horror movie marathon,
the feeling of fatigue mixed with cheap scares were killing me.
“I hate you for putting me through this!” I scream.
But your wonderful laugh echoed in my ears.
“I never thought I’d say that,” he says.
I keep the memories saved in a folder devoted to you.
Your photos and compliments keep me going.
Your cat Lucifer is filling my inbox when I’m crying
because that’s the only way you know how to help.
“My heads such a mess and I have absolutely no idea how to handle it half the time.” he says.
I start to tremble like a leaf,
I cried because I could see myself failing.
As my body heaved up bile and tears,
You told me everything was going to be “okay.”
“What are you talking about babe?” he says.
I yell at you and get no response for an hour.
My livid words are now embarrassing and childish.
I finally got a message, and I raced to apologize.
But of course, all the message shows me is a GIF of dancing dogs.
“Why do emotions have to be so fucking complicated?” he says.
I wanna break us apart and start fresh
My chances for freedom come all the time
I sit at my computer, my finger hovering over the enter key
Begging myself to for once make the biggest jump.
“I’ve actually become addicted to you.” he says.
I look at your jawline, shaggy hair, and Cheshire smile.
Tattered band shirt, smiley face pj pants, and bizarrely large hands.
I remember how hard it's been for you to get to any human affection.
And no one has ever given you a chance to be loved.
“I’m so lucky to have you.” he says.
Your hand passes down my neck to the dimples in my back,
In a pot shirt, tight jeans, and my calloused hands.
You tell me how much you’ve missed me,
Even though we were only separated by our own mental instability.
“I don’t know how I could ever begin to repay you.” he says.
As I complained on and on about my future,
Explaining the pros and cons of being so close to strip clubs,
You come up with the scheme to secretly meet before I take off,
So that you can finally buy me dinner and give me a final hug.
“Quit looking so damn pretty all the time.” he says.
I can tell as you recite all of the terrible things your brothers did,
Physically to your thin frame and psychologically to your brain.
I know how much you’ve suffered from people claiming to love you,
They promised they’d never hurt you, didn’t they?
“(I) would’ve slept better with you here though.” he says.
The late nights when you’re filled with alcohol and sweet tea,
While trying to explain how you feel in between the serenades of lightning,
I remind myself that this is growth for you,
Even if depressants fuel it.
“You’re wrong, and you know it.” he says.
As I sit on the leather couch looking at your last message
The ugly striped carpet of the church is taking me back.
I thought of you ignoring me in person
And whispering how beautiful I looked over the phone.
“I’m not moving on until you know just how highly I think of you.” he says.
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