what if
that night under the stars,
i told you the truth?
what if i said,
"i have a girlfriend,"
instead of
"i'm just here for coffee and cigarettes and a clear sky"?
would you still smile like that,
still lean your head when i talked about Bon IIver
and the way Coldplay lyrics sometimes
feel like prayers?
would you still offer
your time,
your mind,
your fucking midnight guitar songs,
if you knew
i already belonged to someone else?
maybe.
or maybe
you'd laugh politely,
say "nice to meet you,"
and keep your distance
the way kind girls do
to save themselves.
and maybe
i wouldn't be here,
drunk on the ghost of a girl
who never kissed me
but lived in my lungs.
maybe
i'd still be in love
with the wrong girl,
but at least
none of us
would bleed like this.