Today you didn't even talk to me. When you finally looked my way, you lifted your index finger. And I didn't know fingertips carried weights but the weight on that finger you tried to lift, seemed to be too heavy even for the muscles that make up your arm.
I watched you while you were laughing as your friend cut open a milk carton he noticed sitting across the room. And I watched your ominous eyes as they watched every person that crossed your path but they never seemed to even skim across my eyes; but my teary eyes were locked on your jaw as it moved in a tight, vertical motion. And I watched your lips as they pursed to create a bubble with the oxygen that travels through your veins, and I wished to be there. I wished to be the gum kept in between your teeth and wrapped around your tongue with your oxygen blowing me up until I popped with the feeling of your lips. I wished to be the oxygen that ran through your veins helping you breathe.
And I think it's funny how I constantly feel a need for coffee and you always chew that Orbit gum you love. Because you are like my coffee, providing me with the caffeine I crave, helping me run. And I am the gum you chew; kissing me with your tongue as your teeth tear me apart, losing flavor until you throw me away.