When I Asked You What Love Is, You Told Me This

i’m thinking about that time you told me you love me

and i asked you what love is

and you said it’s this.

and i’m wishing i could see you now,

wishing i could kiss you now,

sink my teeth down into your bottom lip now,

wishing i could throw my fists into your chest now.

this.

nights we kept hidden,

nights i gave you my love,

nights i wished this was something we could have said out loud.

this.

nights i laid in the dark,

nights she was in your arms,

nights i cried because you couldn’t touch me.

this.

exchanging the things you weren’t willing to give me

with your favorite three words: i miss you.

this.

the times i’d miss the bruises

from your vehement touch

because it’s all that i had left of you.

this fucking explosion,

fucking burning from a fire you set.

this.

the times you didn’t stick around

to watch me burn,

to watch me bleed.