One year ago we were sat at the table in the second floor library
You told me you wrote poetry online and it was the first time I noticed you were different
Don’t get me wrong, different in the best way possible.

Last night I drunkenly admitted I had feelings for you that I’m not even sure I was aware of
You were so sweet about it
And you wouldn’t let me leave without my jacket.

Tonight I’m going over to yours to hang out for the last time until next year
I checked your page for the first time in a few months wondering foolishly if there’d be a poem about me
There were new poems, but they were about her, her who beat me to you.  

That ******, I’ll see you in a few minutes