Zee Melo

I take pictures And I laugh with my mouth open, Because I'm sad But it's that light sadness Of Summer, And you're here.

Some don't have tails, Just little nubs Or nothing at all And they don't seem to mind But my grandfather said they scream When the electric wires Cut them I said it was awful He said they don't even bleed, The wound cauterizes And they scream But they are not even allowed To bleed or mourn They survive And I thought that was awful too So I fed them A little bit more

I lose every grain.

We sit at the new coffee shop I said I've been meaning to try out (I lied) My drink is bitter (Nothing to do with the taste) And you give me an empty smile Saying nothing new, Laughing nervously, "Same old, same old" (You lied, kind of— Stings anyway) And we both look anywhere But each other's eyes, stumbling Because we forgot how to read us, Because if we look, truly, We might remember too much Too genuinely, When we existed without pretense, When we talked freely into the night— And so we stay as long as is polite to, I offer to pay and you thank me (I feel guilty, somewhat) We hug without really touching, I say to text me when you get home And you don't And I stare at last year's birthday message, So much easier than saying "I love you, I used to love you, I remember you fondly— I want to."

I learned a new lesson: You must let a liar believe That you are a bad liar, That you are good and simple. And I did.

You said he was a good liar And I stopped you And said, feeling strongly (The way children do about their morals) That no liar is good. You laughed at me, Saying that's not what it means; That he's good at lying; You laughed at my weak grasp Of your language And I stared, hard, but quiet (The way chastised children are) Wondering if only I see the dangers Left in ambiguity.

You lied, all the time, And I'm not sure if I knew. You told me you knew death, The way you said it, knew, Made it sound so intimate And so I asked you, Because I was always scared, If it hurt to die. And you shrugged, shrugged, And told me pain is a choice. "A choice?" Did I sound hopeful? But your wolf smile crept in (The one that prickled my skin, That made me think, somewhere, He lies he lies he lies Before I convinced myself otherwise) And you told me pain is a choice, Just not one I get to make. And didn't understand And you smiled And I didn't understand.