i’ll ask to see

you because i cannot

breathe anymore

and you leave me on

read until

i have to text you

again, and you

say sorry,

i can’t make it-

it’s fine i promise,

the tears were never

there.

only the next day

you say that

you were spending time

with her,

that’s why you

couldn’t be with me

and it is the stinging pain

within my chest

that has me distant,

that has me crying through

the night.

when mom asked me

why tears were in

these blue eyes,

i tell her

they were never there,

and ask

can you be here

again

and

again

but it’s just the same

because i am not

a first,

i am the last

to be there, and

you should know

it hurts so bad

sometimes,

so what do i do

when he is busy with his fans,

and he is busy with his friends,

and you are busy

with your other

best friends?

i bury myself in

the writings and

stories of others,

if only to ignore mine.

if only to look busy.

if only to be last and alone.