i don't know how to tell you,
but i've always loved you.
you're my best friend,
but i've always felt more.

it's been 2 years:
2 years of looking into your eyes
and knowing you don't feel the same,
because you're straight.

i love your dyed hair,
i love your music taste,
i love your style,
i love you.

we both know you don't love me like that;
but whenever you touch my arm,
or smile with your perfect teeth,
i fall more each time.

it's the small things:
like when you look to the side and think i'm not watching,
or the giggle when i make stupid jokes.
you're perfect for me,
and that's what hurts the most.

she says i love you to everyone she knows,
because she’s afraid it will be the last time she can.
and i say it back,
but it’s forced.
and i struggle.
for so long those words didn’t make sense to me.
but now when i say them back to her,
as she leaves my car,
i mean them.
but in a different way than she does.

i didn't know i would like you this much,
but the way you laugh
when i say something stupid,
the way your hands
touch my body,
and the way we stay talking for hours,
makes me want this forever.