(mine)

written in a phone note dated 11.9.18

 

you hid with your head face down on your bed
and groaned as i poured out my words
tense with your arms defending from harm
discomfort poured out as you stirred
you said you’re a fool
i said you were fine
perfect, in fact
even though you aren’t mine
the perfection of you might be just because
whatever you buried inside never was

 

 

 

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