the thing about you is that
you take, take, take,
and never give a single thing
in return.   i thought maybe
i could change you and
make you into the kind of guy
who loves girls unconditionally,
but it's always the same
thing: me picking up my clothes
and my pride off the floor
after you've gotten what
you wanted from me,
and trying to fill myself
with the slightest hope that
you might change your ways
next time.   and believe me,
no matter what i tell myself,
there will be a next time.
(i couldn't exactly tell you why
i keep coming back for more.)

just friends, he whispered
as he pulled me closer
pressing his lips to my forehead.
just friends, i repeated in my head
because i knew that
he loved her
and she loved him
and i didn't fit into the equation
no matter how much
it made my chest collapse on itself.
(i was fighting a war
i'd already lost.)

funny how
one person can go from
a stranger on the street
to the one
that hangs the stars
in your sky
and then back again.

(red rover red rover send billy right over)
it was that simple.
one tap on the shoulder
(tag you're it)
and he knew that he was mine,
two kids chasing each other
around the playground,
the most pure form of love.

i don't play those games anymore;
now i'm drinking until i can't see straight,
and he still doesn't know i love him;
now i'm smoking until my lungs burn,
and he still doesn't know i love him;
now i'm doing what he wants,
going where he wants,
pleasing him in any way he chooses,
and he still doesn't know that
i would do anything for him,
that i love him.

but the thing is,
he doesn't love me.