December, Again Somehow

one of many in a collection of love poems.

I ask you how you’re doing
and you say you’re doing fine.
Honestly how fucking dare you
‘cause now I have to lie.

Because the truth hurts too much
and I’m really scared to share
I think about you all the time;
I still feel my fingers in your hair.

You’re my first waking thought
and introduce my dreams every night.
I love thinking about kissing you,
limbs tangled until daylight.

It’s a secret I’ll keep forever.
No living person will ever know.
Loving you is against the rules;
I reap the pain my betrayal sowed.

You tell me if we lived closer,
we could do this all the time.
Baby, if we lived closer,
I know you would ruin my life.

I should be thanking you for moving on,
but instead I’m back to “what if” —
What if we started over again?
What if I let you kiss my lips?

What if I let you hold me?
What if I let you get inside?
What happened is I lied to you
when you told me you’re doing fine.