BV (September 13 / Baltimore, MD)


To be your friend…
pfft, as if,
I'd even consider it;
I've seen what you do to your friends.
You talk about them.
You suddenly dump them.
You hide girls in your room
when they come over
to see you.
Would you do that
to me If I
brought you
chicken soup?
And what would we do?
Can you imagine us as friends?
You already
think I'm boring.
And, you ‘hate' me,
Kurt Sheeley
wouldn't stay friends
with someone that fucked him over;
and he wouldn't be able to, anyway,
because this one's
not like
old lovers.
She doesn't let a man
just keep
coming over.
To be my friend
would be assuming
the role of DT,
which means you'd see all the drawings,
the love notes and fawnings
over my recent Prince Charmings,
and, well,
you want that?
Didn't you pity him
for going through that?
You'd be privy to see
little sketches of me
with someone clearly
not you.
I guess you don't know what
he went through.
Maybe you should have
listened more
when he missed me.
Maybe you'd know what
you're in for.
And, how
could we be
If we've nothing
in common?
Didn't you say
there's no way
we're compatible?
What on earth would we do, but,
stare at walls?
You want to give me advice
on dating new guys
and see my selfies before I send them
to someone else?
You think I want that
with you, for myself?
How could we be friends
If there's something so broken
It's enough to keep you
not talking for weeks?
What's the catching up frequency
going to be
if you never seem to
talk to me, buddy?
Do you see
where I'm headed?
You wouldn't even make
a good one.
So, I won't ask you to coffee
or send you lingerie pics.
You know I'm not
the kind of girl
to do that
with exes.
Just go back to being
Greg's friend -
the moody loner I didn't like
so very much,
when I met him.
Be him
And, I'm sorry, we won't ever
have a friendship;
"too much damage",
you understand,
to mend it.

by Belle Violet

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