You once told me you were most attracted to my eyes and the shape of my
lips. I had never thought about a person’s lips before, but ever since
then yours are the only ones I ever notice. It’s hard to keep saying
this is nothing. It’s hard to convince people we’re just friends when
in a crowded room you openly say that’s your favourite feature about
me. It’s hard to remember to not let my gaze drop down. I think the
minute you think about someone’s lips. About the way they’d feel
against yours or the shape they’d leave on a coffee cup- you’re fucked.
There’s no going back. You can’t forget that feeling. You can ignore
that feature when they talk to you. You can’t pretend they aren’t the
last thing you think about at night and the perfect cure to bad days.