Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2019
When my eyes find you in a crowd,
my heart can't help but stop,
Then I see her not far behind,
my heart, it plummets, it drops.

You tell me you are better as friends,
yet her iciness says you're not,
four years you loved her, now no more
but it seems she hasn't stopped.

I am your sun, you say to me,
but it seems she is your night,
you are the middle, I am the left
and she's always the right.

You love me, and I believe you,
but I believe my fears even more,
love never ceases, never leaves,
so how could it stop at four?

I see her in all we do,
she trails us like a silhouette,
your bed, your room, your passenger seat,
is there anywhere she hasn't been yet?

You're behind the wheel, hand on my knee,
but when you two meet,
you both get lost in reminiscing your past,
and it feels like I'm in the backseat.

I laugh with you in your tiny kitchen,
and out your window I look,
just two nights ago she was where I am,
thinking of what to cook.

I am in your bed and in your arms
yet somehow it feels so wrong,
like I am the intruder in her space,
it feels like I don't belong.

---Overwhelmed by your love,
by your kindness, by your heart,
overwhelmed by her familiarity,
by her tendency to start

talking about how you always nap,
about how you're like your brother,
about how your mom always complains,
when I, on the other hand, have never met her.

Inadequacy, jealousy, insecurity,
the usual - the full package.
You were and still are best friends with your ex,
and i incur the damage.

You say you're okay, the break up was fine,
there is no need to fret,
of course you're okay, you never had to grieve
because she never left.

It's a catch twenty-two, a lose-lose situation,
if only she wasn't your ex
if only she was just your best of friends,
then this wouldn't be such a mess.

It's a catch twenty-two, a lose-lose situation,
if she wasn't your best friend,
if only she was just another ex
if only I didn't have to contend.

She knows you inside-out, I understand,
both of you grew up together,
I just think, since she's your past,
she must also be your future.

I'm so afraid I'm temporary,
like in those movies and songs,
about how best friends fall in love
and everyone else is wrong.

I'm so afraid I'm a mere pit stop,
a temporary lapse in judgement,
the final interruption, the last mistake
before you return to her temptation.

I know I said I'd never make you choose,
how could you lose a friend?
But as time goes on, I grow wearier,
and things get harder to mend.

She'll be here for every birthday,
for every big event,
it's hard to wrap my head around
how I'm not your biggest fan.


Every time i think I'm in the clear,
and her presence slips far from my mind,
i see her name flash on your phone,
her texts you have yet to decline.

my heart becomes anxiety ridden,
my body numbs inside-out,
i swear it's not petty jealousy,
its waves of uncontrollable self-doubt.

when our friends go out and she joins too,
you hold me close to reassure me,
you mean well but all i can picture
is the same way you held her body.

I hear her laugh and i hate it so much,
i hate that she sounds so happy,
I hate that i think of how you used to love
the voice that sends my ears ringing.

i hate that our friends liked her so much
they kept her around after the split,
she's everyone's friend, everyone but me,
a fact she'd rather not admit.

you told me to always go to you
whenever she'd show me hostility,
but you never fail to defend her actions,
leaving the peace offering always to me.

She wants to be your friend, you say,
your obliviousness catches me off guard,
you're always reluctant to make her the bad guy,
so sometimes i don't even start.

Like a ticking time-bomb, I told a friend,
when I hadn't much faith in us,
but now I hope we never implode
no heartbreaks, no more fuss.

Circumstances decided they didn't like us,
but we made it this far anyway,
like the home I found in you,
I hope you decide to stay.

Four years, I remind you, she has under her belt,
while mine barely holds four months,
Her connection to you runs as deep as it goes,
while I've only cried in front of you once.

Four years, I remind you, til she chose to leave,
while you stayed in your room and cried,
four years is what I have to live up to,
I try, I'm trying, I tried.
messy rhythm but hey, messy thoughts.
Lyra
Written by
Lyra  KUL - CAL
(KUL - CAL)   
348
   unnamed and Fawn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems