Sitting

in a chair

that looks as if it belongs in a fancy furniture store

Bright faces in the dark

i write what I see

which isn’t much, as the scene shop door is only cracked

Rays of cold light fall across the room

the real light stands before me

dressed in 16th century clothing

plastic dagger that, from afar, might look slightly metallic

He’s Perfect.

Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who sees it

In a brief 45 minute span

he’ll kiss two girls

both older

both prettier

both lovable.

At least it’s only a stage kiss.

Acting.

maybe I’m always doing it

acting like I’m fine

like I’m not the tiniest bit in love

like his opinion doesn’t matter that much

The more he scoffs and giggles

the more pain I feel.

it’s not his fault

i don’t think it’s necessarily mine either

just an unfortunate layout of events.