I.
I’ve been sitting on the front porch with the knowledge that you’ve been gone for the past few weeks. It’s been that way for a while now, hasn’t it? You said you’d come out. You either have really bad luck or really good lies.
I think it’s the latter.
I think you never meant to come out to me.
You were gone away, weren’t you? Just away, far enough to for get that you promised -
Why do I bother believing any more?
You’ve made it clear.
You want no part.
But I keep putting myself in the way.
II.
It’s nice to sit in the front row.
You get called on.
And ever answer you give, is wrong.
Rejected.
In favor of the girl who sits two seats behind you, because she always has the right answer.
The benefit of sleeping with the teacher.
And having a pretty face.
Maybe a nice body.
But not an intelligent mind.
It’s just that the prof seems to be a little too distracted by her…
Features, say.
To notice that what she actually says
makes
no
fucking
sense.
I reject your logic, and substitute my own.
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