He asks me why I'm sad.
Maybe it's him,
The boy who is friends
with my tormentors.
The boy who is too loyal
to see what his friends are doing to me.
The boy who lies to me
about things I care about
and doesn't see a thing wrong with lying.
Or maybe it's me,
The girl who fucked up her own life
by hating a boy she barely knew.
The girl who raises her voice too often
to defend what she cares about.
The girl who wonders if she would survive
if she jumped off the second-floor balcony
and doesn't see a thing wrong with dying.
Or is it both of us?
The boy and girl who have known each other
longer than either have been at this school.
The boy and girl who should be friends
but ended up bitter enemies instead.
The boy and girl who will be teammates soon
and are at each other's throats, spewing venomous words
and don't see a thing wrong with hating each other.
He knows why I'm sad.