You got a text,
she'd be up in a few.
We’re friends, right?
She’s met me before,
why didn’t you want her to see me too?

You said it’d be quick,
your closed curtains concealed me on your balcony.

I count the cars that drive by,
instead of passing seconds.
I look for animals in the clouds,
avoiding highlights of your conversation.

I am naïve.

You still want her messes,
a desperate performance
juggling your loyalty and desperation.

Apartment windows watch me.

Should I wait for a cue?
Should I make a grand entrance and declare you the fool?
If she believes you,
she's one too.

I rush in onto an empty stage,
we avoid each other’s eyes,
spotlights of our burning shame.

I shouldn’t have stayed.
I shouldn’t have come.
I shouldn’t have been so dumb.

We aren’t friends,
but neither are the two of you.