but you ignore my texts when you’re out with the guys,
and you talk about girls that catch your eye,
and you tell me all this like it’s not killing me inside.

and your hands are drunk on caffeine,
and they run all over me,
and when i told you to stop, you didn’t listen,
and when you did you stopped talking and wouldn’t look me in the eyes,
and you didn’t even have the decency to walk me to the door to leave.
i said goodbye, you say ok,
and didn’t move an inch or even look at me,

and i got to class late,
but it wasn’t as late as realization that i’m not nearly important to you
like you are to me

but unlike creative writing,
i’m already failing in the subject of you
and i don’t know why i keep trying.

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