i like it when i can hear my dad singing, i like it when i feel the cold sheets rustle. i like knowing that you know what i hate most and how i wish i knew what to do. i like having you talk on the phone to me while i fall asleep and i like knowing that its okay if i dont want to to talk back because its too much energy and words fall heavy out from my lips like cinder blocks. i like knowing how many cups of water i’ve drank and i like knowing useless knowledge.
i like knowing where i am, “you are here,” but i like it more when my lips are the ones saying it.
