It's not really any of my business that she likes to kiss other women
When she's home alone, but she always brags so much
That she's not kissing me. And next year she'll be in another city
And I'll be home, but we can still compare
Our favourite brands of coffee over the phone
I'll be just a few thousand miles away
Remembering what it felt like to kiss your knuckles
In the freezing rain last November
And how every shard of ice that fell didn't even come close to comparing how you felt apart from meo
We can still meet up and visit your mother when you're home
Make small talk, then excuse ourselves for some alone time
And then sit in your car as I cry over how much I miss you
Distance isn't quite so bad once you get used to it
It'll be just like playing a game of hide and seek
Except this time there's no guarantee that I'll be able to find you again
YOU ARE READING
gas station flowers
Poesiacoming of age poetry by a queer young adult writer. navigating relationships and the coming out process. peak inside the mind of a young woman with a mental illness.
