Between gullible and yearning there is me

When am I gonna lose you
trickles out of her headphones and I laugh.
I’ve become an Oracle, predicting futures.
I knew you would slip through
the cracks on my skin,
betrayed by scars etched deep by the past.
Your eyes picked away at bandages
curious for a peek
but not enough to understand.

“I’m in, I’m in,” you said
standing outside of me
pulling the curtains shut
so they wouldn’t see
us
if there ever was.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said
walking away as soon as
I looked down to check the time –
it’s not the right o’clock for
us
if there ever was.

White lines lined up on our gray area
you inhale
I exhale
Do you need another hit?
I’ve been high on you since I caught
a glimpse of your smile for the first time.

You must be nestled somewhere between
being in and going nowhere
while I’m stuck confusing
faith and fate.

It don’t come so easily I convince myself,
carving your name into my outer thigh
right below my hip, where you last held on
squeezing “I’m here” into me until I said
“fine, I believe you.”

But.
You must be nestled somewhere between
mean it and just sayin’
tugging at my strings
the puppeteer who owned a doll
that believed in anything that uttered
I’ll stay.