You say it, no lie, but i know better than you think. i can hear it in the spaces between the words you type to me, your hesitance to let loose the truth. holding it prisoner in ink and your computer screen, i would get your truth in flesh and fingernails, in lust and mistakes. i know this feeling, it's crawling up my arm: i am now just another girl you complain about to other girls. just another gossip item, you might as well tune into the television, sit back and lose integrity. i said i loved you, what did it mean to you, just someone else to say 'i love you, too' to before we go to sleep? just another waste of breath and syllables, another outlet for your frustrations and pent up emotions. i cherished your trust and confidence like the pillow beneath my cheek as i dreamed of you, holding you in my child's hands. they meant the world to me, breathing life in my crayola colored desire for your touch. it pulsed wanting crimson and sultry purple, grey with confusion and insecurity. i imagined you kissing my cheek and saying i would always be yours, your present and future and hopes and dreams, with me. my blunders rendered you farther away than you'd like to admit, eternal sunshine could never seek you out and bring you back to me. could no apology replace your arms around me when the air stank of summer and sweat? i crave your body heat, but the mattress has an empty chill next to me. your spaces and resistance left me lacking in the blinded dark, wondering where you left and i began. i thought i was okay without love, but now it's only my hands that hold my hips in the semi-conscious night, kindergarten colors clutching the sculpted marble of just another waste of space.
