Undead

i want to be your every drunken thought
of whose number you should dial
every slurred syllable should be a confession
of the lust you held for me that was never love

of
something greater that never lasted because
neither of us believed in it at all

i want 30 second voicemails that only say
im sorry with enough background noise to remind me
that unlike myself
you are rarely
if ever alone

i want to be reminded of you in strangers
because
i promised myself that i would stay away
and even when i dont
i want to find your embrace warm instead of
damaging

i want to love you with my bruises and my cracks
with my old bones and timid soul
i want to love you so loudly that it becomes undeniable

because i
have never found perfection in the clearest blue sky
or freshly painted nails
or the first bite of chewing gum
or a sip of really good coffee
the kind that you think of when you wait in line
at the gas station for the cheapest coffee you can find
and wish you had that same taste again

but i always found perfection in you
even when you stumbled through the various mistakes
that made me hate you
i saw the drowsy eyes and weighted feet
and thought you
you still could carry the world
and i want to love you so weightlessly that
i would not be another burden to carry

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One thought on “Undead

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