because im not quite sure anymore
there’s still three weeks on the clock,
seven or ten if you count right,
and im just thinking thinking thinking

at some point i realize, you leave
because there’s somewhere else you’d
rather be; not my three weeks or the seven
or the ten, but the seconds where your
eyes meet mine; foolish, foolish.
at some point i realize, i sit alone
because i was a bookmark, and you’ve
finished the last page.

because im not quite sure anymore
how to vocalize care. across the room
she is talking, shrill, but as soon as these
three weeks are up and someone holds me
harsh by the shoulders:

are you alright

ill crumple.