You can’t keep doing this to her.
She’s gotten to the point where she still looks for you in a crowd.
You shouldn’t tease her with your half-smiles, the ones that hit her in the heart, the ones that release the sandbags, and let her hope.
You can see she’s trying.
Her attempts to appear happy will never fool you.
You can tell she’s cold without you, that she takes every touch you give her and hides them away for later.
Your eyes have never stopped loving her, your mind clicking sickeningly, thinking up ways to fool her.
People can tell your lives have both been emptied immensely, both your hearts have gotten smaller.
She no longer smiles unless it’s for him.
He still clings to her as a friend.
A friend that will always be more, without the knowledge it is.
You can see her fall silent sometimes, her mind flipping through scenes.
Is that what happens when he puts his hea
d down? When he lays in bed, unable to sleep.
Does he still picture her laugh, her smile, her perfect waist, or does his mind wander to thoughts of another, more delectable item?
Her mind still register how his mouth tastes, how he pulled down the neckline of her shirt and kissed her collarbone.
How his hands felt on her waist, as they tightened, as he pulled her body towards his.
She still feels his warmth as she ran her hands up his chest and smiled.
When she used to tease him until he begged.
How could they ever be “just friends” when they remember all that?
She’s gotten to the point where she still looks for you in a crowd.
You shouldn’t tease her with your half-smiles, the ones that hit her in the heart, the ones that release the sandbags, and let her hope.
You can see she’s trying.
Her attempts to appear happy will never fool you.
You can tell she’s cold without you, that she takes every touch you give her and hides them away for later.
Your eyes have never stopped loving her, your mind clicking sickeningly, thinking up ways to fool her.
People can tell your lives have both been emptied immensely, both your hearts have gotten smaller.
She no longer smiles unless it’s for him.
He still clings to her as a friend.
A friend that will always be more, without the knowledge it is.
You can see her fall silent sometimes, her mind flipping through scenes.
Is that what happens when he puts his hea
d down? When he lays in bed, unable to sleep.
Does he still picture her laugh, her smile, her perfect waist, or does his mind wander to thoughts of another, more delectable item?
Her mind still register how his mouth tastes, how he pulled down the neckline of her shirt and kissed her collarbone.
How his hands felt on her waist, as they tightened, as he pulled her body towards his.
She still feels his warmth as she ran her hands up his chest and smiled.
When she used to tease him until he begged.
How could they ever be “just friends” when they remember all that?



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