Monday 15th March. 2.39 am.

I would love to say that I understand what you are going through,
but I would be lying; it has always been easy for me
to pretend I've forgotten the things I
said/did/wanted in a moment of weakness

you know I always focus on your bottom lip
(and only your bottom lip-
as if I'm hanging a piece of myself off it)
when you talk.

and as if that were not bad enough, when you blink
your eyes make a wet clicking sound like someone
turning off a lightswitch with a sponge
(and I've always thought you are too thin)

but I wonder if it is bad that I read the things you have written
on the back of old receipts and traced on windows
and ask myself if they are about me.

and I cannot (read: will not)
let it out.

Friday, Date Night.

It was Date Night, so we watched a film, and I
was struck by Those Passionate Embraces,
and I said 'we never have kisses like that;
never feel as if the world would
end if our mouths weren't touching just then'
and you said it was just a film, and anyway we
weren't as attractive as the people in the films
and we've never fucked up against a wall in public
either because nobody does that in real life so what
does it matter?

but I now wish it hurt me more
that I didn't kiss you then.

Last Night

they tell me it can be
a combination of things-
chemical imbalances, a lack of love
during my childhood, or that
I do not love God enough.

I want to tell them it is none of those things-
that I cannot stop thinking about her mouth
and the taste of her name against my teeth.