I remembered when you talked about views, and how you loved them.
It was not until I came across a view,
I realized they reminded me of you.
You talked about seeing them
together with me.
And I smiled, at the idea of us,
seeing an art right before our eyes
when the real artwork was you.
But the day we met again,
you left to meet another girl,
to do the things you said we'd do together.
And I kept it to myself,
because we were just friends.
You talked about
going to art museums with me.
And I smiled because I knew that
in a room full of art, I'd still stare at you.
But you didn't care much
about the poems I write about you,
even though that was art too.
And I kept it to myself,
because friends don't
write poems about each other.
You talked about the food you liked
and asked me what mine were.
I told you all of them and
you shook your head in laughter,
telling me I love sugar too much.
And I smiled because sugar to me, was you.
You talked about how you
drive fast cars and get wasted.
And I smiled,
because you're just another bad boy with brown eyes and a heartbeat I've fallen for.
But I didn't tell you that.
Instead, I kept it to myself,
because I was just a friend to you
while you were everything to me.
