Nothing-

You were red. And you liked me because I was blue. But you touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky, and you decided that purple, just wasn’t for you.

And you said “just friends” but I’m laying in your bed again, wearing your old sweatshirt and your boxers and you have your body wrapped around parts of myself that I haven’t looked at in years And you said “just friends” but your hands keep crawling up my legs like it’s a game and the hickeys you left down my stomach would be broken hearted if they heard your lie And you said “just friends” but my hairs in a braid that you said you knew how to do and your fingers are stuck and you’re kissing my neck And you said “just friends” but our tongues don’t understand how to cooperate and my poems have gotten drunk on you too many times to count And God knows, I cannot just be friends