just the two of us,
me, feeling like I would pass out at any moment
from the cold, clad in the little black dress
my friends dubbed "the garment of sex"
all to impress you.
I sang nonsensical melodies,
my heart soared,
and so I put out my arms like a bird,
thinking I could fly,
I balanced on the railing of the bridge.
After a near fatal slip, you pulled me down,
placed your hand in mine
and didn't let go.
I don't know if I was actually as crazy
as I was behaving,
or if I was simply on a role
for wanting you to notice me so bad.
You led me up to your room,
wrapped my frozen frame in blankets
and put on a movie about searching for the wild things.
I wanted to tell you that the most wild thing
was sitting right here, next to you.
I placed my head upon your shoulder,
you squeezed my hand but did not encircle my body
with your arms.
At times I would forget,
and put my hand on your chest, then catch myself and apologize,
and you'd always reply "It's fine."
but never reciprocated my touch.
And so, I sat there, arms hugging myself,
pretending I was asleep
so I would keep from crying.
After the movie was done, you walked me down the floor
to my door.
You lingered in the frame, uncertain of what move to make.
I think, you might have wanted to kiss me,
but hesitated, and to prove to you
I respected your request for friendship,
I gave you an abrupt hug
and pulled the door shut,
my heart breaking with every moment.
Because, the truth it, I am in love with you,
I've loved you since September,
and the first time we kissed it was a little taste of heaven.
I'm not ready to come back to earth just yet.
You tell me you like me, but you're terrified
for all your past relationships have died.
I don't bother telling you
I've been through two of the sh*ttiest relationships
and yet, would do it all again,
all for one more night with you,
wandering around, wondering where the wild things went.
A night in which I could jump off a bridge
and not die,
all thanks to your hand in mine.