A Plea

Do you ever think anything, really?

What I mean to say is do you ever look, really look at me and go

I should talk to her.

It’s been eight years and I still don’t know my best friend’s birthday

Or what she likes on toast – although I know she likes it burnt.

I tend to remember things not worth remembering

And forget everything the world says I should know.

But if you let me get close I promise

Whether or not you drink a bad cup of coffee at four in the morning will not affect my judgment

Those details are not what make up your soul

I can find the ones that do

I know there’s no reason to talk to me

I’m not anyone special

You are

I know that without seeing

All of your soul.