Dancing Poem by Rose Kirby

As I watch you rise from your bed,
I wonder if mind reading is overrated.
Because right now I don’t want to know what you thought about last night,
I just want to know you’re not sad.

I move to sit on the bed, and you smile,
And in that perfect little moment I cared what you thought.
But the feeling disappeared when you ruffled my hair,
And I wondered if you saw last night as paedophilia.

You still treat me like a child,
Though I’m lying mostly naked in your bed.
Tell me, when we’re together, is it like making out with your little sister,
Is that why I seem repulsive to you?

There’s 20 months between us,
But you treat me like its 20 years.
I guess I’ll just pretend not to notice when you walk me across roads,
Holding my hand as a precaution, not a sign of love.

The feelings escape when you lean across to me,
I smile, but you tell me to wash my face and brush my teeth.
The smile stays fixed as I pad across the landing and open the bathroom door,
But the second it closes, I’m on the floor fighting tears.

I picture the scene, you dancing me round the room,
Swaying in each other’s arms to thrashing electric guitars.
The smile on your face as I undid your first shirt button,
And the kiss on mine as you undid the zip on my dress.

I gasped as our clothes fell one by one to the floor,
And we collapsed onto your single bed.
All glamour and romance forgotten as we became as close as ever,
And I finally felt like we were right.

But now you’re knocking on the bathroom door to check on me,
I smile, and try to kid myself you actually care.
But as I look down at my pale, average body I begin to quietly sob,
At what I’ve done for you.

But I don’t regret last night, so I stand up,
And I brush my teeth and wash my face after reassuring you.
I looked at myself in the mirror and smile at your persistant taps on the door,
And as I open the door you pull me into your arms and rip off my gown.

“Good morning, '