We are taught in Kindergarten to cross ourselves like pretzels.
But as we both got older, and I wanted you to notice me
I started folding my legs under myself and leaning a bit to the left.
This isn't the last fluidly desperate attempt I'll make
to try to teach you how much I want to be turned inside out
But it's the last time I'll pretend that you'll change your mind.
When I first got on my knees for you, I was begging.
I'm always begging
Never for myself, but pleading to you in the name of the little girl you've locked up.
She hasn't seen the sun or the moon or felt the throbbing in the soft spot of your elbow
in ages.
You didn't want her to grow up
(but she did)
and here we are.
Here we stand together but I'm sinking to my knees
and you in your own self-doubt
I guess we've always been trying to get on each other's level.
No comments:
Post a Comment