Maybe You Should Audit This

I want to 
have your tongue
wrap around the reality
that maybe you could
grow to love me
and then holding me in the dark
would be for the sake
of hiding me from the heat of the light.
That sleeping by yourself
doesn’t feel right 
anymore
and you want me curled 
into your side.
And there’s something weird about
you being sweet and quickly
turning into sour
every time
right before you leave.
That good days are 
laced with second guessing
and part of me is screaming
none of it
will evolve into
love.

I know I am not
giving you your definition
of enough.

I’m an attention
whore out for
blood
and somehow 
it’s all rushing up and
above,
cheeks,
ears,
flushing down my neck,
your lips pressed to it
and my heart skips just a
small beat,
like a false hit of
tambourine.

I was telling her about
how his and I
was a connection
based off mentality.

Love,
I don’t even know
if you 
like
me.

This can’t be healthy.
But at least I’m not lonely.
Sorry,
I’m not easy.

Either way I’m getting my fix:
She says emotions only make a mess,
flip switch.
Lips on my lips,
I am shut off.
I’m allowing you to touch me
without first stating
without showing
without knowing
(if you ever will)
love me. 

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