drafts
(2.9.22)

no one knows except the drafts i write
the thoughts that never become words
the dreams i have of holding them tight
and wondering if he feels heard

no one knows how dirty i feel
or the excuses i create in my head
how i'll cover his life with hands of steel
but refuse to lie in his bed

no one knows i tried to run away
for hope that something might change
my knees are tired but i'll never sway
though often, it's true, i feel estranged

no one knows my deepest fears
and he doesn't think to ask
if nobody tries my bluest tears
no one will know they're glass

no one cries quite like his gold
their love was my only friend
opposites attract but they also fold
so i'll hate until it's too late to bend