Just Friends? — Poetry

I’m not sure if I truly understand the ways of man…
Or maybe of those without mended wounds.

I wanted to turn me into an “us”, if just
for a brief moment where we could explore
our lust or shared desires.
But at the time that was ours, the interlude
was over before it could ever begin, so I think
were we ever supposed to be a thing?

Maybe we were best suited for our roles
before the whole ordeal — two people so wrapped
up in our heads that only others like ourselves
could possibly comprehend the many voices
which live within.

And even after our “never been” came to an end,
I still wanted for us to be friends.
But the distance that always existed only persisted
and it was as though we once again lived on the same
planet but in different universes.

I get it — women tend to be difficult to read,
but I was a book with the pages willfully exposed,
waiting for a reader to bring each chapter to a close.
And though our possibility has been tossed into the category
of ‘what could’ve been,” I’d still like to know within you
lies a friend.

(originally posted Jan. 7, 2017)

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