why do i still care what you think of me?
why do i still care about the things you want and need?
why do i even bother trying when
you'll just hint that there's something else missing.
it'll take eight years to erase your touch
that still lingers on my skin.
every cell replaced what you defaced
in those late night minutes of sin.
why do i still listen when i know you never did?
why buy the best vanilla just because you said?
why bake a batch of cookies because they'd complement
the ice cream you said you want to eat it with?
our lives will still be intertwined til one of us moves out.
an arms reach away and not far enough.
the distance feels insignificant while youre off
work and back home for those two days a week.
why do i carve space and time out of my life
i hate that you still take up space
but you'd never stop and pause
to think that you could be so fine
with everything that still haunts my mind.
when you move too fast my stomach drops.
though i wish that it would not.
i wish that i could shut you out
of my thoughts and my heart and my life.
'to have a sibling bond so strong
but the line i drew between me and you
must have turned transparent once
that one meter space beside my chair,
is the place where yours lives, right there.
close enough to hit mine if you push yourself back
close enough to tell whenever you jack–
off the switch in my head
that makes me feel anything good about you.
in the chambers of my heart,
the blood still pumps the same as when we grew
up to anything interesting today?
what do you want to eat tomorrow?
why do i care and why do i bother
if all that you've caused me is sorrow?
i wish it could be easy to go cold turkey
on going through the motions of care.
and even though you're gone most mornings early
your chair will forever live right there.