I wonder if I'm the only girl you've
ever lied to, pitch black in
your bedroom, city lights lighting
your face from behind you.
Did you say it to her then?
Do you say it to her now?
I held onto your words, a life raft
sent to rescue, even though you
were the reason I was swallowing salt
water, feeling the burn inside my lungs.
Does she know what we did?
Does she know what you can do?
I praised the thin lips I kissed,
lips that hid a sharp tongue
split into two, you'd think you
were a Gemini, and not the next one.
Do you show yourself to her?
Does she get to see the real you?
I let you let me down, back to the earth,
reading constellations, trying to figure
out when you would come around
and I would no longer hurt for you.
Do you say when you mean to her?
Do you always tell her the truth?
Like horoscopes and tossed coins
in dirty fountains, falling stars
and carnival psychics, I still believe in
You, even though I know the truth.
Did you mean what you said to me?
Did I mean anything to you?