Quesadilla

The fridge is being paid

To cool empty space

So two tortillas with cheese

Will suffice for today


Light pours into the place

You stay, to escape from 

The life that was made

By people before you

Could have any say


A smile hides

The pain you feel inside

Because it sucks to say

You can’t eat well again

Til next Tuesday


So you wonder why he stays

Because no one ever has

That’s why you always ask

Why he likes jazz 


Because a music connection

Is something not everyone has

And not everyone likes when

You write about the past


You like it

You like to feel sad

Because you know it’s not forever

These feelings that you have

So you curl up in a hoodie

That you stole

From a closet, not your own


And you write

About the dreams you have at night

And the fear that he might

Leave, like someone did before

And that memory is core


Like the time you made

Pasta, it wasn’t great

But the effort was shown

Because the recipe was your own

And you know, what you don’t

You love to find out

And most people won’t

Ever see

Into your heart like he

Can, because that’s how a man

Should be


The quesadillas are great

Perfect for a date

Because he doesn’t care

Much about the taste

Because he’d rather see the hair

Not covering your face

And it doesn’t matter

How much food is on the plate

Because where used to be a hole

Is no longer empty

And my cup is full.


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