I remember when were kids on your mom’s couch
Queer Eye two had just come out.
In your basement with your sister and her friends.
Our first New Year's Eve.
I think we both felt normal
But every time it ends.
We stopped talking some time back.
You said you moved
But really, you ran.
I don’t blame you.
The years of living as not you -
Then almost you -
Then becoming you -
Hometown is a frog climbing up your throat
Someone who only knows not-you smiles with daggers; their love is acid in the veins.
What happened?
The facade won’t reach their eyes.
There was once a little girl where you stood.
Shedding that hurt, I will never blame you for.
Even the good reminds you of it all.
I’m sorry for that.
Even more for all the steps I took wrong.
I still have that sketch and a book of poetry.
I’ll still send you succulents for your classroom and a duvet for your wedding.
No note attached.
I don’t know what to say.
I still love you?
I’m still sorry?
If I opened my phone and there you were I’d…
I’d…
Queer Eye ten is coming soon.
I hope you think of me too.
~Alchemy
