So this poem might actually get published so I am going to post it here so when the time comes, it can be removed if the publishers decide that it shouldn't be posted somewhere else.
She sits idly by and cries tears for a boy that will never really know her.
She loves him fully and she knows that he loves her back.
She just claims that he doesn't know how to show it.
They live in this sickening dynamic where they don't know what they want
but they are 100% sure that their wants are different. And as their middle
man, it is difficult to judge where they should fall on the spectrum
of friends and maybe potential lovers.
He sends me messages asking what she is thinking and
she comes home trying to figure out if he has called.
I remember when I played wing-woman instead of
heart break hotel doorman. It is their baggage to carry
not mine. Staying at the heart break hotel was ineffective so
I threw them into the street at Fuck You and Get Over It's intersection.
I want nothing more than to take these two and leave them
street side. I want to tell them I clearly don't give a fuck.
He can call her back if he wants.
She can drive him nuts for all I care.
I didn't know being their friend meant getting
full pass access to their affairs.
They fight about nothing despite their wants being
virtually same. They are just looking for a reason
to stop playing. I am in the middle of their stupid games
and I am stuck sitting between them as they plea for me
to fix everything wrong with their relationship
neglecting to remember that I am destined to live
in a trailer with just upwards of two dozen cats
because I clearly suck at human interaction.
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