Another Broken Teen

Last time I drove, I was thinking about you.
Thinking about tracking you down,
Thinking about being with you.
Last time I cried, you told me it would not work out.
You told me this long distance “thing” could not work.
You told me we were too busy.
You told me you couldn’t find time.
Please explain to me how five miles is long distance,
And explain your definition of busy
Is it not wanting to leave the house before 3pm?
How about making plans and then ignoring me?
Or maybe it’s that you didn’t want me.
You just wanted what was covered in the pictures.
You just wanted to see what my “cutest bra” was.
You didn’t want me.
You didn’t want to commit to anything besides yourself.
It’s hard to remember times
You wanted to talk anything
Not involving my breasts.
Pretending to get something off your chest,
Hoping that humanizing yourself,
Would somehow get you on mine.
Why did it take so long to realize
You are these nightmares I keep having

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