We keep saying that we’re friends,
just friends, only friends
and nothing more;
but when we’re both drunk,
and we keep looking at each other, like this ,
with this something
in our eyes that can almost be mistaken for love–
I start to think otherwise.
You say I keep you up, keep you awake,
keep you needing me,
even though I’m really the one who
keeps needing you.
You push me over the edge and back,
Get mad when I can’t open up enough to
carve myself out, give you any part of me back. Why can’t caring about you just be enough?
You don’t know certain things–
like how I think I’m a little in love with you
with the lights off,
that the boy who broke my heart
is not the only one I cry on and on
into the night about,
but it’s 3AM
and I realize not only have I lost him
but I’m scared of losing you too.
You talk about your exgirl
like you’re still mad at her,
but I know she’s all you see at night.
I know you’re broken
that she’s sleeping with someone else
at night, that you would have married her if you could.
I know we’re each other’s second choice–
we fucked for a while but it didn’t mean anything.
Is it bad that when it comes to you,
I’d still take nothing for something?
And now three months later
you’re still the house I go home to,
the shoulder I cry on, the person I rely on.
hd, I forgot I wrote this after being hungover from the residual effects of you