This is good,
but she's not fooling
herself.

It means nothing.

She says it doesn't matter,
it's not important.
Believing is another thing all together.

Inside she knows what she
feels is real.
The same way she knows
he doesn't think it's true.

She says it's cool,
when people ask.
She won't push or shove,
her place in life is defined
and labeled in her own
broken script.

The Fuck Buddy
The Easy Friend

She shakes,
then nods.
Eyes rimmed red,
she shakes and shivers.
I'm fine, I'll live
she protests.

Then she turns away.
They won't see,
they can't see,
how much she still hurts.

This is good
she whispers,
but she's not fooling herself.
She doesn't really matter.


I had a few ways this could go, and I'm not all that happy with the finished product.
I really wanted to get this stanza in the piece somewhere.

She won't bring them close enough
to count the tear drops evaporating
on her eyelashes.

I'll just use it else where.