not sleeping anymore

he still thinks

i like him less than I really do—
and I’ve been using it to my advantage.
plans.
he still thinks
some things will always feel the same.
and I'm the passage of time
in a tiny room
not so far away
from him.
now,
when the sun lights up the tips of his hair
as it stares down on us all from large windows-
spanning larger than anyone in the room,
i can smell my broken heart like the back of his head under my chin.
he still thinks
I like him less than I really do,
it’s easier than
me
still tasting his earlobes on my tongue
in the cold plastic pen cap
between my lips.

posted by d @ 4:06 PM