you’re not worth an entire poem from me
I could think of a million others
more deserving
better liked
better haircut
god forbid you ever try
you know she literally had to tell me?
can you even begin to fathom my
embarrassment
when she told me?
but you can’t, of course,
because you’re a child and nothing means nothing
and nobody heard him, the dead man,
and I’ll hide behind a Gatsby mask
until no one expects who I ever used to be
and soon you will be just
a speck in the ground and a mile away
I never told you what I wanted
but I assumed you would never listen
no one ever listens and that suits me well
because my thoughts are my own and Gatsby’s don’t talk
that sets me apart, doesn’t it?
you never would want to talk
I reached the end of my smile with you
and I found myself tugging on the last thread
because you’re not worth an entire poem
and nobody heard him, the dead man,
so stay away from my newfound happiness
let me breathe again.