Can I be the one next to you in those pictures where you’re smiling?

Just a poem about a girl.

Soft skirts and tied flannel shirts hold your waist

 Squeezing your hand in the back of a cab.

You say my name like no one else does.

And that red lipstick is really f*****g killing me.

 

I probably wouldn’t make it all the way across

The bridge if I didn’t know who was on the

Other side. Maybe even waiting. I hope we

Are on the same side when the cement wears

Away and it crumbles down to the water.

 

Hallways of a hundred doors and you,

You’re behind one of them. Sleeping

On your couch might be the only

Real sleep I get anymore.

Blocking out rattles of the AC

So I can dream of hearing your voice.

“Come here” in the dark, eyes closed,

Because you know right where I am.

 

Promising to take the bus only

To make myself walk. Leaving is

Just a full circle, the long way back

To you. My feet even dragged when

They realized you were now behind me.

I couldn’t decide if the park looked

Emptier without anyone around

Or with me walking through alone.

It didn’t really matter very much.

 

My phone lights up, and

It’s not that you want to talk to me

It’s that you were somewhere far away

And I was in your head

While you were in mine.