Chosen

Chosen

I imagine that
perhaps you flicker-
that your edges fade
in the warm sunlight
because if I suddenly
realized I was asleep,
it would make perfect sense.
But having you here-
feeling your arm
brush against mine-
it’s illogical. It’s unreal.
I’m just waiting
for you to disappear
to prove me right
because I’m used
to being right.
I don’t deserve this
-being chosen.
People just don’t
choose me.
So tell me: when
I will awake to find
you don’t really
want me?
I’m still waiting.