I stay on the phone
With someone who fights
For the attention I had given you
We fight
And argue
For who your letters are for
Who are they for?
It's a fun game
To decipher our moments
And see who you're talking to
It gives me the most
Happiness
I guess or rather
Smugness
When that other person knows
It's for me.
Then though,
Sometimes it's for that other person?
I have no right to say
But jealousy seems to still run
Through my veins.
Answer me?
Tell me?
But you never have to.
You never need to.
Because I know.
And I'll try to know.
Even when that other person tries to tell me
Otherwise.
