headchecks

it is ... infuriating

how many poems

i have written

already

about you

you love me,

you love me not

have you listened to mitski?

because i’ve noticed

you only ever smoke

when you’re with me.

i love you,

i love you not

i’m picking flowers

and plucking off petals

by the hundreds

repeating myself

he loves me,

he loves me not

///

and you said that i could stay the night

and i was ready to sleep on the couch

and you only insisted i leave

when you remembered your mother

what would have you done?

if everyone had just left?

would you have offered me water?

would you have carried me to your bed?

would you have woken me up,

gently?

when did we meet?

on my birthday,

adjacent to the one

who hurt you.

but honestly it feels like

i have already known you

for lifetimes