I don't know why I'm looking at your picture again
when all it ever does is make me cry.
I don't know why I can't settle for being your friend.
But I have a tendency to die right after I beat my high
score, as if I can't handle being good enough, because
nothing else ever is.
I guess that's why, when everyone turned playdates into
dates, I turned birthdays into confessions.
I'll play truth or dare with strangers, but I'll always pick dare,
because how can I say my truths out loud when I can't even
whisper them to myself alone in the dark?
And why is it so easy for me to flirt with your friend when I've
loved you for years an I can't even look you in the eye?
Why can't I put a pen to paper without writing your name?
If love always hurts then why do I spend half my time feeling empty?
How can I be jealous of the friends you text back when you're
fighting with them?
And here I am, trying so hard to be a good friend to you that I forgot
about the people who were good friends to me.
Why is it so hard to write about my feelings when I know exactly what they are?