I started to watch a TV show I know damn well I will never finish
and the song playing has been on repeat for five hours.
My bed is too big to be made by myself.
On Saturday nights he laughs with me
as we flip the sheets over and over
to find the corners that fit the mattress the right way.
It makes me tear up when I have to tell him goodbye
because for those few hours I'm with him
I don't think about peeling off my nail polish
or worrying about tomorrow.
There's a bowl of melted ice-cream sitting on my kitchen table
and my curtains were so heavy that they fell off the rod.
Most nights I lay in my bed thinking of nothing.
You make me feel touchable and lovable,
when the truth is my skin burns scars on anyone who tries to love me.
Some nights I wish I would just put on that stupid black skirt,
fall in love with some stranger at a bar,
leave red lips on wine glasses
and never look back.
But I don't want just a one-night stand.
I want someone to take care of me.
I want someone to ask me why that bowl of ice-cream melted,
why this song has been on repeat,
why beautiful eyes love to cry
in the form of
words,
words,
words.
— m.f. // Maybe things aren't black and white,
maybe it's the colors that confuse me
