Popcorn

My friend's home is beautiful. 

It's got green walls with flowers all over. The floor is soft and plush. It's warm but only in summer, and it's too cold in winter. But my friend likes it just fine.

sunday nights are my own.

old music in the corners of my mind

pen scratches on paper, ten thousand poems

two hundred and seventy-two

little golden lights, 4 walls

that mirror my soul.

He doesn’t look at me
Like I look at him
I know exactly what he does at recess
Where he eats lunch
His middle name
I know what books he likes
What video games
I’ve slept in the same room with him

I knew it was bad
when you didn’t even have to say it,
when I saw it in your eyes,
when I knew it in the way you folded your arms
and turned away when I spoke.