unrequited love is nothing like the sound
my thighs make
when your hand rests right between them.

it’s kerosene injected into my veins
and a stubbed toe on the gas can
as punishment for seeking
an escape route,

because we both know that even
setting myself on fire
won’t equal the pain of feeling your
heart ebb just a little more
when her eyes flit across the dining hall
to meet yours.

the caress of your legs between mine
on the window seat in our apartment
at 3:07 in the morning
will never amount to 
your lips grazing her cheek every other day in the halls —

she is the white elephant sitting in the corner,
flipping the lock
and lifting the pane
to let the wind whip my face
as i cry in the bathtub
at noon when you’ve left.

i promised to give up my entire world,
and you say you’re only looking
for happiness,
but you don’t realize that
you tied yourself to me
and are dragging me out the window too —
ceaselessly reaching 
toward the sky.

ple