Poem of the week: Not like this.

This isn’t how I wanted this to happen. You knew I was sick; you knew how it goes. Branches spew from my mouth & you think it a good idea to keep your roots planted deep. There must be something wrong with me if I don’t like choking on leaves. This isn’t how I wanted any of this to happen. I want your hands on me but not like this. I want your breath on my face but not like this. Look me in my eyes & tell me you don’t feel it too, tell me you don’t feel our pulses racing to match each other. Tell me you don’t want it too. Cup my face in your hands & kiss my forehead & tell me life is a wondrous waste of time; touch me & tell me you don’t know how to make it all better. Tell me this isn’t better. This isn’t how I wanted this to happen. I don’t know what else to say to you to show you yourself, to show you what you are doing. You want to love but you only love to want. You are a chaser; you run from my rays of sun trying to show you light. I’ve always known I look better as an afterthought in the dark but you told me you saw me & that was enough. You held me & made me forget & that was enough. This is enough.