Maybe I shouldn't have manipulated.
Maybe I should've just been me.
But would he like just me?
What was a friend who didn't like me for me?
I didn't care. I wanted him.
He would like me for me later.
Now was the time to impress.
Now was the time to impress.
So I tried being monosyllabic.
Like him. And I wasn't me.
The phrase was there. Lying
In my inbox. I had won. He needed
Even if, just for a second, to know
How I was and what I did, that day.
It's 12:30 in the night. Randomly,
Mind passes by this statement.
Stomach lurches. It's been three years. And
The memory of that noon, after all this, stills.
I am me. No more His
Friend. Stomach Lurches, still.
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