Two years ago

When I loved you two years ago, it was a shock  to my heart,

like it been failing and the doctors needed to start it.

It threw me against the wall (no anesthesia)

It made me trip and fall (synesthesia)

Not to your arms, but to the ground.

Hate me, bait me.

I have you.

It hit me hard (you loved her)

I played my card (and shoved her)

and you still weren't mine.

(I walked away, burned and torn,  dead electricity settling inside my bones)

But now, strange as it seems, I find myself,

In a very  different almost-love.

I don't fix every word

just so you'll like it. 

I don't wait in hallways

just to see you.

I don't barely touch you

just to feel lightening.

We're comfortable, I'm comfortable,

(and we don't see her anymore)

I call you stupid,

You call me loud,

And we laugh at jokes that would never be funny,

if we weren't saying them.

I'm not falling in love,

I'm wading into it.

(Where we were and where we are now.

Miles downstream of what happened,

two years ago.)