I really did not want to be here,
not with you,
sometimes at night,
I took safety pins and threaded them in and out of the cotton sheets I did not need on this bed,
It was fucking hot in here,
and it reminded me of the Summers when we slept in here,
together,
every night,
with the windows open and without concern for the heat,
you were my very best friend,
my only real love,
and sometimes when you were asleep,
I worried that you would be the first and last time I understood heartbreak,
and I worried that you wouldn't be around one day to explain to me why I felt this pit in my stomach,
and why it had moved into my chest,
and why it only surfaced when I saw or spoke of you
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