Pockets

I.
Breath full and far
(but never felt)
your imaginary arms enclosed my faux body
body talked but you didn’t listen
(I am here)
trapped inside the kiss that never happened
I happen to want you
but you don’t notice me
I’m full of projections
I just want your attention
I couldn’t have made this up

II.
your lips are far away from me
I had sworn we had a connection
maybe I created you
and the real you is no good for me
chase kisses caught in fantasies
fantasies full of faux you
I swear to God I still want you
inside memories of eye contact
and shared glances
this lie is full of rough romances

III.
blood on my hands
I cut this crush in half
and it spilled all over me
then sewed itself back together
and attached itself to me like pockets
so I wear my feelings for her on my left and right side
surrounded by her
softened by her
saddened by this
(the crush that didn’t crush back)

IV.
my red hands stained the thread you left on our pockets
there is a tiny knot at the end of this
(I can never get those knots out, without using my teeth)
teeth bite down on fake memories
trying to spit out the rough parts
there is no romance left in this poem
just hard held hems and my hard heart
I swear I didn’t make this up.

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