Homeless

Meeting eyes with you was like staring at a picture that has been hung in the living room my whole life.

You were so familiar, yet you never failed to catch my attention.

Talking to you was like reading a book by the fire. Upside down.

I found comfort in each chapter, even if it took me some time to understand.

Holding your hand was like holding a mug of coffee.

Your warmth was rewarding but I knew you would stain my teeth.

After pressing my lips over and over against your rim,  I wouldn't feel like smiling.

Kissing you was like looking at old polaroids.

Because our lips spelled words that the letter magnets on the fridge could never make sense of

Kissing you was like dancing in the kitchen

You had all of the good moves.

Kissing you was the feeling of good memories

But kissing me was like kissing memories goodbye.

Being with you was like home

But I guess to you, I was only a neighbor.