remember when you told me you weren’t ready for a girlfriend and that’s why we could not be?

i thought it was pretty sweet how you were

thinking of my feelings

            by saying how you wanted to wait

for me to be yours and honoring me as yours.

it was so moist in the air outside of the grand high school

and I could feel trickles of sweat rolling down

                                                                        my ever heated back

as the clouds made their way to relieve us of the sizzling heat,

you had picked my petite frame and raised it up past your eiffel towered

body; swinging me so fast, the wind tried to keep up in desperation.


you grazed me over with a snarky look of ownership—

as if i was bound to you—and yet all i could do was stare

with misty-eyed wonder at the fact that you were mine

but I was wrong.


you proclaimed your affections to me like a knight

being knighted to their king. Baby you told me you’ve

been hurt before and it almost cost you your

stitched up heart.

said that i should give you more time to prove to yourself

why we should be—

i didn’t think too hard of it since you’ve stayed up all times of

the night, making sure my anxiety was in a tightly, closed bottle

and my demons stayed at bay.

i didn’t think much of it since you were the one to get me to

stop branding my body with a knife to feel—because you had

become the reason that i felt again.


butterflies soaring so high in the deepest pits of me,

i ruffled my feathers into my utopia of you and i. no wonder

i did not catch myself when i fell down face first—

being blinded by your charm.


what you meant when you said you were not ready for a girlfriend,

was that you were not finished webbing all your lies in me

you were saying that it was too easy to discard me away like a child

done playing with a rag doll— you went and silly me always followed

followed behind you with my tails wagging

left                              and                        right,

left                             and                         right


what you meant was that i was the unfortunate side piece

you kept in your back pocket—all crumbled up like an old

receipt from some unimportant store—that you shuffled around,

jamming your piano fingers to find when you got bored, and

needed a toy to play with. silly me always would turn on

when you pressed play.


Until you got an actual, real girlfriend—

right after you had just played with the strings of my heart,

not too long ago. it felt like a rock was just shoved down my throat

and no longer could i breathe

as the pressure             strained            my whole being

as you simply stared my way in mute regret.

as your actual girlfriend led you away


            the already distant space




But I keep wondering:

            is it actual regret you feel or the

disappointment that you could no


            pull                    my strings



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