“truth is, 
I painted my nails your favorite color, then peeled it off
truth is,
the skin over your Adam’s apple tasted like an apple
truth is,
I pretended to want my Anchorman DVD back, just as an excuse to see you
truth is,
I actually love your hairy
legs, even though I called you
Chewbacca on numerous occasions
truth is, 
this apartment is too big with only one person in it 
truth is,
the other side of the bed still smells like you
truth is,
I still say your name in my sleep, and when I wake up
I still check the couch when I don’t find you in bed
I name every bruise, every cut, every ache, after you
you are the fire escape I broke my arm climbing,
you are the door I leave open every time I go out
truth is, 
I’m not over anything about you
I still trip on the person I was when you loved me”