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i wake up and the first thing that hits me is the song you showed me weeks ago with the upbeat melody and the lyrics that sound like a letter i could’ve written you in my sleep.

i breath in and smell that cologne you wear on mondays and that songs chorus repeats in my head and i sigh. i sigh because you’re streets away and waking up thinking of your day or last night and not the way i cut my hair for you to notice.

i spread my love tight and too thin like a twin sized sheet on a queen sized mattress. the corners pop and pull and i tug too hard. the edges rip. the seams split, falling through my fingers.

i’m exhausted anymore. i wake sweaty and confused and for a brief moment i forget that you and your stupidly long eyelashes exist and the way you smell after a shower doesn’t haunt the little hairs in my nose.

i want you to crack open. crack open your smile and realize that it doesn’t have to be scary. i’ll leave the light on and keep my masks in the hall closet so i don’t scare you away. but you have to walk through the front door and see what i look like. you have to.

at the end of the day i walk home to write about you and listen to music about you and fall asleep dreaming of your hands and you walk home and fall asleep, dreamless.

i want to fall asleep with your toothpaste breath on my forehead. i want your eyes to flutter at 2am when i can’t sleep because i’m cold. i’m cold but i’ll fall asleep if your soft subconscious hand is on my waist.

i pull my intestines out from my toes so i stop feeling your smile in my stomach when i laugh. i can step on my emotions when they’re on the ground like that. you siphon your hair through your fingers and look dead into my eyes and i die. i die.

By Molly Wilson

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