you remind me we're just friends. Because the way you trace me with your fingers doesn't feel friendly. You say you can see through my front when I told you I can't feel. But it's not a front. You say i'm delicate because of the soft greenery engraved in my skin. But I am hard and I am cold. You won't sit by me, because you don't want me to catch feelings for you. But as I sit far away from you and take a drag, I know you don't believe any of your words. I know you weren't describing me, you were describing yourself.