i can’t do casual.
nothing about me is casual, i’m
times new roman font and my first words
out of the womb were so what are we?
i’ve said too much;
this is all so hard to tell you
how i compartmentalize my feelings,
these itchy sweaters i carefully KonMari fold and
tuck away into storage
for a winter that never comes,
but you make me want to pull it all out
of those neatly labeled
clear plastic bins
now
in this season of i know it’s 3am, but—
you say, look, i can’t be your boyfriend
but i don’t want a boyfriend?
maybe you only think you know what i want
maybe you don’t know what you want
i don’t know what i want,
but i want you to know me.
i don’t know how to protect my heart,
is that what you’re supposed
to use dental dams for?
i want you anyway