fuck you.
how dare you say that
i am amazing, that
you love spending time with me.

how dare you.

how dare you say these things
and do the very thing that
contradicts your words,
as if you hadn't been doing so already.

i wrote you words.
they are yours.

and you cannot manage the effort to care?

you are not as mature
as i thought earlier this year,
i suppose.

i want to be truly angry,
and rage,
but i believe too much
in being your friend
to destroy.

(there's still a little part of me
that thinks you'll come back.
i don't know if you want to,
but i know you were the only man
in four years
to make a move on me
while sober.
and now you took it back.)