I am just the space in between —
a fill-in for time.
No intention is needed,
for there is no expectation
from either side.
I fill their cup in the short in-betweens,
completely draining mine,
just hoping that this time
it might create
the desire for me
that I have for them.
But it never seems to work.
I’m left empty and hurt,
crying on my own,
just hoping
I make it another day.
