Infatuation is a dangerous thing
and I've been in(love)fatuated with you
since you first said my name.
It wasn't romantic at all,
it was just,
you.

I know you never told me you'd stay
or that you loved me,
or anyone,
and I'm sorry that this has taken so long.

But I'm in love with how
you've never dragged your hands across my skin,
and whispered my name in the dark,
and how you never even think more of me
than your friend with a pretty face and full lips
you call when you're lonely.  

I'm sorry enough for the both of us
that I'm not strong enough
just to say
no.