oh
the names we used to call each other
out of fondness and giddy to be near
playfully punching your arm and then
leaning in for a kiss-
my lunatic
that was my favourite
you would tell me I was beautiful, then
oh
rubbish
you’re a lunatic
a lunatic I tell you
back and forth we’d go
dork…ridiculous…madman…
a lunatic,
crazy for loving me,
walking snowy streets,
my inappropriate footwear filling with slush
as wind tangled our hair together
our hands in your pocket
warm
in January
in Alaska
without any coats
we were lunatics
I with my plush body, wool sweaters, messy hair
and my jazzlisten mind that you never even tried to decipher
writing letters upside down, drinking coffee you hated
and loving my lunatic
oh
and a lunatic for how you let me go
afraid to hurt me
afraid to love me
afraid you didn’t care
you didn’t realize I only cried for maybe an hour
missed you for maybe a day
I was a lunatic
for seeing so much in you
just wishful thinking
that there was more going on in your teenaged-boy head
than sex or being seen
oh
such a lunatic
but it was alright
because so was I.