(Literally sat down and typed this out...)

She gave away the secret.
She told him he was my crush.
I wanted her to keep it.
Now when he meets my eyes I blush.

Cheeks are red.
Heart is hammering.
I wasn't mistaken, wasn't misled.
Somewhere, others are yammering.

But in this closet, it's only us two.
This small room is full of me and you.
It should last.
It shouldn't end.

But afterwards, he told his friends.
I was just another girl he got alone.
I was just another girl to flirt with on the phone.
Whenever he was bored, when he had nothing to do.
I wasn't the first.
The first was you.

I met you the next day,
You told me the truth.
It hurt at first,
As you well knew.

Now we are friends,
Brought together by disappointment.
I hope this parade of girls with broken hopes ends.
But it's likely he already made another appointment.

One more girl to hold and hug.
One more girl to wean off his drug.
One more girl to add to his list.
One more girl... I'm done with his shit.


(I... really don't know what prompted this...? But I did know a boy kind of like the one above a year or so ago. He'd be with another girl every other week, including my sister, which crossed the line. She was the "one more girl" and by that point I was done. I actually went up to him during lunch and punched him in the stomach. It was the best feeling ever. ^.^)