Duckling

You are not an angel, you are a pet
I look at you through glossy eyes
I’m sorry I haven’t let you go yet

We’re plucking out our feathers one by one
In this second I am squished fingers in a desperate touch

I want to say something about your posture
How I noticed you’re feeling blue
Like the night at your place when I got way too high
And sloppily told you I needed you
Instead, I say nothing because
I know I’d rather not hear the answer
Instead, I sink back into the couch
I wonder what you are thinking
I never find out

Duckling, are you the ugly one?
Or, duckling, is it me?
Duckling, are you the ugly one?
Or, darling, it’s not that hard to believe