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I know who you are
We talked daily
and he never told me
I never really knew
how he felt
I tried to ask
but found no answer
no reason
he didn’t know
I knew who he was
He was too afraid
too much of a coward
to come clean
with his feelings
I heard it all second hand
he could leave tiny notes
here, there and everywhere
he didn’t know
I knew who he was
Maybe he’s afraid
he’s trying to belong
maybe to scared
of the consequences
I don’t blame him
I would be to
he just leaves me notes
but he doesn’t know
I know who he is
Hmm....do you really now?
Who stopped talking to who, and who posts shitty whiner poetry about on the internet?
How can you expect things to remain the same when you treat people the way you do?
Not that I care anymore...
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