What’s really open?

Your heart, your legs, your mind,

or your feelings for me?

Are they closed-

closed like the door that transfers the messages I


to you.

Hoping you won’t exploit me, leaving me vulnerable and messy, and tired, and weak…

like those others did.

Like all the Sams, Julies, Jacks, and Kelseys


Like how your father did to you…

Is that what love means?

Does it only exist in the confines of conditional terms for you?

Does it only exist in those late night sexts and drunken hookups for you?

Those external boundaries that don’t transcend any limits of intimacy for you…

What’s really open?

Neither me nor you.

-written by Amanda Waggoner