You said we could be 'just friends'
Look into my eyes and tell whether the way I look at you is the way friends look at each other or not

The barista doesn’t look
you in eye anymore.

You’re wearing that blue checkered
romper from the night before,
the one that leaves little
to the imagination
of the scholarly humans,
all up before the ripe time of 10.

And now it’s noon
and you’ve slept through
3 phone calls and you’re not even sure
if you’re bank account will allow
for the $2 iced coffee
you’re about to **** down.

But you buy
all the overpriced
caffeine anyway,
because today’s a new day
and if you stop moving
you might notice the wound,
and the pain,
and start to bleed,
and realize its going to make
a mess so maybe
its time for an Irish exit
and leave.

Maybe,
we’ve been ignoring all
the red flags.

Let them pass us by,
roll your eyes at morality
and let their manipulation
chip away at personality.

Comfort let me believe
four years of knowing me
meant that you knew
what’s better
than me.

I guess it’s just that
I never felt like
I was settling,
for anything.

Because settling
would have meant

down,

and babe,
to me,

you’re on the highest
of pedestals.

But,
I’m slowly learning
how to get you
back on the ground.

I can’t see you anymore.
There’s sugar coating my eyeballs
and the curves of your words,
rolling around my mind,
like a bouncing ball
that’s dying.

After we say goodbye,
they stay,
echoes of you
out to play.

You asked before you kissed me
and now I wonder
if you will ever say
that you’ll miss me.

I realize now,
you have me
misread.

You’re in love
with left-overs.

Fun summers with
your dream-boy,
his pasty skin and
***** bed.

Waiting for a text
or
phone-call,

patient and alone,
in your head.

Dreary eyes
tied to
screens,

only ever seeing
each other
for a few days

and then
every night
in your’ sleep-
no,

dreams.

In theory,
it’s less
than romantic.

And I just thought
you should know,
my love notes
aren’t about
giving in
to old habits.

They clarify
all the reasons
I know how
to live happily
without it.

A slow chilly breeze
that haunts the night,
unaccounted for,
unclaimed space taken over.

You know I’ve never
done well with
vague directions
and misconstrued sayings-
words that will pull
your devils arms each direction.

I don’t want to sit on my porch,
stare at my screen,
wait for you decide
if the coffee I’ve brewed
this morning is too strong,
not the best it’s ever been.

And how many times will I let
my hands shake and eyes divert
toward exit signs until I realize,
we never closed the door.

Let in all the voices
and found a way to make
exclusive,
something we would have
to fight for.

Break the lines
we never crossed
and call the whole situation

elusive.

I was dancing on a coffee table
last night and I was so happy
I almost started crying
tears of tequila and realization,
that I am more than enough
for me.

My hair spinning to the beat
and my skirt catching
in the breeze.

I’ve been overplaying
the same Drake songs,
thinking he wrote those lyrics
all for me.

And it’s crazy that I might let
you believe you have ever
had any hold over me.