The point anybody with sense has wen trying to make about that illustration of a little black girl coloring pictures of Lupita with all her Nicki pictures in the trash.
You said, “we can still be friends,”
and I replied, “I am not going to kiss my friends
Because I have walked down that path before,
and it was tragic.”
How do you become “just friends”
with someone who always find their hands in yours?
Does “just friends” mean
knowing how each other taste?
Because last time I checked,
that’s not what friends do.
I can’t be friends with someone
I look at and want so much more.
I am not going to be friends with someone
I want to lie on the couch with
and cuddle with,
even when I hate cuddling.
I can’t be just friends with someone
my heart aches for and
gives me butterflies in my bloodstream.
There is no way we can be friends.
No matter how much it kills me,
I’d rather be nothing than be “friends.”