"You don't care" he says with tears brimming his eyes. He likes a girl down the hall. She is small and has pretty brown hair and brown eyes. He always mentions little things that make her beautiful.
He doesn't know how much he means to me. I try and help him get the girl. But when something is wromg because of my advice it's all my fault. He says I don't care.
But I don't have anyone else. All my friends are gone, I barely speak to my family. So as my best friend, he means so much to me. Yet he says I don't care.
He could run off with her and forget about me. He doesn't know how much. The possibility scares me. Yet if it happens I wouldn't say anything. As long as he's happy it's okay. But I don't even care.
YOU ARE READING
Typing as I Think
PoetryI'm really tired and alone right now. I want to talk to someone about it but no one will spare me the time. So I will type it.
