Poetry Feelings

twenty-two

we are in your backyard on beach chairs
talking about the poisons that made
our lips numb and our souls catch fire.
our lips curl up into our cheekbones
as we talk about the things that changed us,
as we talk about the things that matter,
as your hands reach for the small of my back.
i act tough and you say something dumb
and suddenly, we are laughing so hard
our exhales attach to our throats.
we gasp for air. my fingernails dig into
your chest and we roll around in your grass
until the scent stains our skin and
your lips taste like the kind of mixed drinks
where you don't even realize how much
alcohol you are consuming
until you are falling on the floor.

and somewhere in between when
i am telling you i love you and you are
screaming my name, we wake up
and suddenly, we're here and suddenly,
we're small and our ideals go beyond
each other and i don't tell you i love you
anymore and you don't say my name at all.
here, i stare at you from across the room
instead of into your eyes. the windchill
screams against the warmth
of our love, scrounging for heat and
i wonder if you still miss me sometimes
and if you still think i'm pretty
and if you still remember the little things.

i know we're no good for each other -
you will always be the bridge between
where i was and where i want to be -
i know we've been here so many times
and i know this sounds so crazy,
but come back. come over.
this fire in me will make you feel wanted
and you can put your hands
in the crane of my neck. come over.
i want to show you how good we
could have been by candlelight,
how good we could have been if we
learned to see through the darkness,
if we learned to swallow the night.