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