i left you alone in the middle of a crowded restaurant
maybe the wine went to my head or
maybe my head spent the entire night before convincing my body
that the walls would close in around me if i let your hand reach for mine
how do I tell a stranger that my mouth still has unhealed scores?
most of them are yours
but i can’t say that because it’ll break your heart to know you broke mine
you still do
it’ll break your heart to know i can’t love you without breaking inside
there is a stagnant bellyache inside of me
reminding me of all the pain i feel every time i try to breathe
and you had a cross around your neck and I wanted to tell you
that the last time i saw god he left me on my bruised knees
and the last time i heard his name it left the mouth of a woman that told me she loved me, but she really just loved the way i could make her feel
and i haven’t thought about either of them until sitting across the table from you
life is filled with people who abandon religion during the day
only to praise it when their sins consume them in the daylight
I wish I could talk about simpler things like the weather
without bringing up how hot summer days are filled with the constant urge to walk right into the sun
but we’ve had several non-dates since the first and I still don’t know why you like me when
most days I find it hard to like myself
(I don’t truly believe you do
which makes it harder
which will make it harder)
I do know your hands are rough because of the work you do and I think that’s why you see me as a project you can start
but I’m tired of being compared to a house people have a fixation about moving into.
