Chapter 37: thirty seven
I painted my toenails while you talked about her
because it gave my hands something to settle on
outside of cupping your jaw
and kissing you like rain kisses rooftops.
You told me she was beautiful, so I tried to become her,
eating my personality until I looked like a docile
lamb in her lace dresses and liquid eyeliner, pale pink lips
that tasted like lying. I tried to make each of my words settle
like soft snow since hers always did. I tried to take off
the top of my ribs and fit her soul in the branches there, but
even with perfect hair and straight teeth and freckles
like a fawn's cheek, you still did not
notice me.
Once we were in a supermarket, and you were
surprised by something I said, you brought me into
your arms for a swift hug. "Careful," you said; "keep
that up, and I might fall in love."
You told me she was funny. I started cracking jokes
at every opportunity. You told me she was brave. I started
acting recklessly. You told me she was intelligent, so I studied.
Trust me, don't worry, nothing I do will
get you to love me.
by r.i.d
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