we used to jaywalk on the streets and
play hide and seek in the rain
we would laugh about first kisses in
Central Park
and mimic people as they walked by
and the entire time it was you

I know that I am not beautiful
I know that when other people see me
they see the girl with the thin-and-very-awkward frame with
glasses that always seem to fall
I had just somehow convinced myself that
you saw more than that

When people ask me about you
I like to say that I don't know about you and that
it had been awhile since we talked
because it had
and
when they ask me if I'm okay
I smile and say of course
because I am
I should be
I'm not

tell me
am I now apart of your forgotten club
that is shoved to the back of you mind
will you tell your new friends about me
and will you say that you miss me and
will you make it seem inevitable

will you create a blank canvas of loneliness for
the next girl to find and try to paint on
will you whisper my name to her as if talking about
a shadow that shouldn't have existed

sometimes I find myself wondering if you were just some cruel
nightmare that my mind had conjured up to torture me but then I remember that
my imagination isn't creative nor beautiful enough to create someone like you

and now it rains like hurricanes but when I hide, I don't try to find myself, it's better that way