You outgrew me like you
Got sick of cheap, gas station habits.
You no longer find me intriguing
But I have not outgrown you-

My cheeks still flush when I remember
How your stubble felt against my neck,
How raw my face felt after kissing you.

I spent months romanticizing you,
Embroidering your hands so
They still yearned to hold my waist.
And I thought you’d come home
And it’d start all over

Because you said you understood
Why I need tragedies to write,
But you must have misheard me-

I didn’t need you to help me write.

I needed you to hold my papers
While I fixed my hair and to jump
In puddles with oil rainbows but

You left, you grew your hair out,
and you outgrew me.