The space between you and me
is a
waiting
question
mark.

A frustrated silence
that holds its meaning
in the basements of our hearts.

In the “oh wait”s and “should have”s
of 10 seconds too late.

It can be seen from the eyes
in the back of my head
felt in the hairs of my arms
and in the

extra pounds on my belly
the nails half done and bitten
the weird part of my hair

the space between you and me is unfair
demanding lies
echoing loneliness, feeling queasy

screaming “it could be as easy as the
time you kissed my neck”
I wish I could check your ego at the door
'cause

In the space between you and me
I lose the best self that I can be
the one I discovered
when you thought you had better taste.

It seems all that's left between you and me is

space.