Brittany Allen's untitled poem is a raw confession of unrequited love. The speaker misses someone who isn't hers and never was, yet who is the one person who seems to care about her. She even wonders whether love and care are really the same thing deep down, a question that shows how much she wants them to be.
The middle of the poem lingers on small, comforting details: reassuring arms, a familiar smirk, a certain tone of voice. With this person she can smile without faking it. But the speaker admits they are both good and bad for her. The painful memory arrives plainly: she laid her feelings out, and he told her it wasn't like that, since he liked someone else. The ending is quiet and lonely. She sits writing poetry, still missing the person who "makes things right again." The mood is tender, wistful, and a little stuck, as if she knows the hurt but can't let go.