Okay, here’s the thing;
There’s three letters in the waste basket
and one badly written poem,
not that this is any better
but the metaphors, they made it scary deep.
Here’s the thing;
You’ll find a missed call on your phone
and a blank message,
you’ll call me back and I probably won’t pick
it’s a question of courage.
So here’s the thing;
I intended, as you might have noticed,
to find some courage in this poem
to tell you that I sorta kinda like you
and I have failed miserably.
This is what you’ll do;
You’ll see this poem
and pretend it isn’t about you, okay?
You’ll laugh at me and continue to make fun of my toe nails,
and if I show it to you say, “Girl, you have some imagination going for you” and then you’ll toss it aside and roll your eyes like you do with the rest of my poetry.
And you’ll tell me about Leicester and I’ll roll my eyes too.
We’ll laugh and talk about Tolkien.
And that is the thing;
There’s some strange way
my stomach has been turning at the thought of you,
I was told it’s the kind of feeling
that complicates friendship.