She lays on the floor of her little apartment
And asks me to rub her back.

Her mom isn't home right now.

Out of our mouths come happy bubbles of conversation
But they came out of her poisoned past.

We get to messing around,
Now I've got things to brag about
And I'm almost ready when she asks:

If she wasn't already trying to fix things with her man,
Would I date her?

Do I love her? Do I love her like that?

I tell her the truth.

The truth about where I am in life right now.

The truth about what I've learned.

And I tell her
That I'm her friend, and that I care.

And she is sad,
But I am proud of myself.