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.