Sitting between you two is like
an intrusion
or something of the like when they all look around. ("Something
isn't right here; what doesn't fit?")
And that's always been me, so why do I take it so hard
("That's what she said.") when it's somewhere that I
thought was where I belonged?

You can't find me anymore, but you wave at me
in the hallways again ("Oh, God, Oh, God-
shut up!") and I can't quiet my own thoughts when we're
with nobody but each other and her,
and if she's the only thing we can talk about, I'll go on forever.
("Fuck you.") But then I'll have to figure out so many runs
just to stop myself from thinking of
the things she says to you.

And you still lean over me to talk about
something I understand too.
And when someone else shows you something, you get so excited.

It's obvious what I'm trying to say.