55

Checkered, polka-dot, plaid;
a pattern of familiarity
an alarming consistency of what’s next.

I once met someone who admitted to me
that he may never get married;
he didn’t think he could love anyone.

Instead of asking those big questions,
“When did you start thinking that?”
“Do you really believe it?”
I started thinking,
“I can change that,
I can make him love me.”

He just needed someone to talk to
someone to understand how
loneliness can eat away at you
like ants on a picnic blanket

This pattern of trying
to fit everything
into everything else,
that I had a place
in anything I deemed
needed fixing.
Not every statement needs a response
and not every time are you
that answer.