You make it hard to be friends.
You lend an ear but not a voice.
You make jokes, you're quite amusing
Insightful? No. Sarcastic? Yes.
To my dismay, I hang on every word.
Only to be disappointed by a lack thereof.
You keep your cards close
My book is open for perusal.
My absence is noted, my presence disregarded.
It is exhausting.
You are this intriguing enigma
I am left to puzzle out on my own.
Such an odd path we've tread.
Safely stowed in the corner of my mind you reside.
You shouldn't hold this place in me.
Marks on a timeline are all we've been.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
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