We sit in plastic chairs
I try to make new friends
Seen photos of your babies
Wiping chalk dust from my hands
I'm proud of you, I hope you know I mean it
Just because I don’t understand it
Doesn't mean that I don't see it
I don’t want to ask permission
But I can't stop staring at my hands
Watching you do dishes while I'm tearing up our plans
I don't want to ask, for everything I need
Why is it so bad to just want to be seen
If I can do it, why can't I want it too
I need someone to treat me like I've treated you