To Jesse

Here is a poem of telling,
here is a poem of thought.
Simply, here is a little I Love You,
I love every piece that I've got.

I feel like you're far off now,
like you don't need or want me today.
I've read all the poems, yes, every last one,
and they give me something small to say.

I'm in a really low point right now,
I've been thinking about the past a ton.
I've tried to tell you, dear friend,
but you haven't noticed, not once.

Maybe it's all just my fault.
Do I fail you as a best friend?
Because, Jesse, my dear, things are different...
do you love me the same in the end?

I know I've been trying my hardest,
I work through every last fight.
But, Jesse, you just count the minutes
'til you can tell us all good night.

If I showed up this evening,
and I knocked upon your door.
Could you pretend that you wanted me there
and try to love me a little bit more?

You're amazing in even the bad times.
I love every little thing.
But I feel so unloved, and it's not f ucking enough..
and I know that these words are gonna sting.

Show me a little bit of passion,
show me a little bit of care.
Jesse, please, I'm begging you, show me-
show me you're still inside of there.

Confession: I miss my best friend.
When you see him, please let him know:
I'm terrified he doesn't miss me...
and he promised to never let me go.

Here is a poem of telling,
a poem of trying to explain
how there's this feeling inside that I'm too tired to hide.
I miss you, this isn't a game.