You have a boyfriend.
At least I think you do,
at least that what they’ve told me about you
cause facebook really hasn’t answered if that guy
you’re hugging in fifteen pictures is him or not
and if he is,
****,
I’m *******.

I’m ******* because as much as I think I like you,
he already loves you
he already knows what your favorite food is
and if you like the left side of the bed, or the right
if you’d rather wreck his face in Smash Bros
or get wrecked downtown with his smashed bros

We had fifteen amazing minutes in a crowded bar
where you left me with your name,
stitched on the front of my mind
and cutting off air as the lump in my throat
I want to shout it into open flames
so the fire singeing my heart, takes hold,
and burns across the world to yours.

But I’m *******
because he’s got fifteen amazing pictures with you
his name's  already branded on your mind,
already gilded on your lips
and my embers of uncertain emotion can’t flirt with catching hold
when there is already a bonfire, raging in your heart.

I’m *******,
because you told me your name
because one spark started a fire,
and it’s already going out.