one.
i sit down at this white desk and stare at the wall.
i can’t force poetry.
i can’t aimlessly scribble my thoughts.
it happens once in a while,
and for some reason,
all of it is about you.
i lie through my teeth and pretend it’s not,
but you see right through.
there is no balance in this game for two.
sometimes, i feel too much
or feel too little.
two.
i miss you more at night
oh for fuck’s sake
are these the feelings i’ve been trying to avoid?
i’ve forgotten how to sleep without your arms around me,
was every touch a lie?
i feel less alone knowing
we can always begin again,
but would you want to?