you said, dear friend whom i admired,
that i’d be better if i smoked dope —
you said so, but i didn’t hear it, but
i intuited that you meant i’d stop
crushing on you.
when i was an astronaut,
you pulled the plug — i couldn’t breathe,
you cut my air.
when i was a ghost,
you sometimes shivered — i didn’t want
to frighten you, just say hello.
poetryandpoet 