11:48 am and I’m thinking about how good
we were at pretending.
masters of the art, me and you.
you with your light laugh and fickle friends,
pretending you know what it’s like to be loved.
and me on your lawn, picking at grass,
pretending I can’t feel.
I left because I’m good at leaving and
you ignored because you’re good at ignoring.
no one can throw stones, we did what we knew best.
we did what we knew best.

T.11.I