You say you want to be friends,
But when I speak to you you turn away and don’t show up again for days.
None of my other friends do that, just saying.
You tell me what you don’t want to talk about
And I understand,
With some things I feel the same.
You said you miss my body,
But do you miss me?
Are you too scared to say it?
Or do you not?
You say it shouldn’t bother me.
But who are you to tell me how to feel?