it was me
he didn't want to believe
maybe it was a trick, he thought
but it didn't feel like it ought
to have been this serious
he was always much too curious
it was me
he was beginning to see
the feelings she felt were real at some time
but she never thought her best friend sublime
perhaps she saw the same vision as he did
he would never ask her, though, she'd only kid
it was me
he definitely knew that she knew, too
it just showed up right out of the blue
the way she stared when he wasn't there
he would never bring it up, never would dare
lunches and dinners became a little awkward
the others never mentioned it, kept moving forward
it was me
he knocked on her room's door
she sluggishly walked up, opened it, oh lord
even unkempt she looked stunning
she asked, "hey, why's your brain still running?"
the silence said all as he stood in the doorway
"want to come in?" she asked, and on her bed they laid
she made it clear she didn't want to touch
and he was okay with that, it didn't hurt too much
he might as well ask, this was his only chance
"did you have a dream about us at the dance?"
her body stiffened, but then relaxed in a second
she looked as though he just pulled out a weapon
"please, he wouldn't understand," she said softly
even if his world shattered around him, he held his heart loftily
"i just want to know if --" but she holds up a hand
"i told you already, he wouldn't understand"
YOU ARE READING
this fantastical world is too surreal (poetry #5)
Poetry"a rustle crackles underneath jackboots crossbow tight in hand she breathes one final breath before he pulls the trigger" you know the drill
