Comfort

You lay across my body with your head

on my chest and I stroke the soft spot

just above your eyebrow while you

speak to me.

I’m only one-third listening,

and one-third enjoying your unexpected closeness,

and one-third wishing it wasn’t just

because you’re drunk.

You ask me how school is going.

I’m too scared to tell you

I dropped out.

I’m too scared to tell you anything,

like how much being in your arms

keeps me from falling apart.

And how you make me feel happy when it’s been really

hard for me to be happy lately.

If you asked, I’d probably say

you deserve someone that deserves you,

and I’d pray for you to say otherwise.