By Emilee Petersmark

Down't frown--

Confusion doesn't wear you well--

It's only me

With salt in my wounds.

Don't ask why,

It's obvious.

Gentle calluses on my cheek,

Brushing my hair

And lips--

It's only you

Trying to right the world

When you have no idea

how.

Please don't move my hand

From your sweet face,

Your eyes dark with ambiguity--

It's only me

Falling apart,

And you,

Clumsily tripping over

My scattered pieces.