I want to buy a stethoscope
to place on your heart
so when I kiss you
I can know it’s not a lie
because even after
all these years
I still can’t believe
anyone could love me
the way you do.

I remember the first time
you told me your dad hit you
that he’d shoved you into a bookshelf
so hard he’d knocked it over.
I know your father,
I can’t imagine him
having ever read a book.

Sometimes I write you letters
that you’ll never get
because I can’t find a stamp
or an envelope
or your address
a thousand miles away.

Now at night I lay in bed
covers pulled up to my neck
because you made me
believe in ghosts
in the way
only an undiagnosed schizophrenic can
but you also made me
believe in myself
in the way
only you can.


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