something else

It’s not that I really like you
‘Cause I don’t
It’s not that I find you beautiful
‘Cause you aren’t
You’re not as witty as you think
Nor as caring as you pretend
So that’s not it
And your gestures are those of a child swaggering into old age
So it’s not that either
I wish I could say your presence calms me or fulfills me
But it doesn’t
Or that you bring out the best in me
But you don’t

Yet thoughts of you
eddy behind me
swelling the faster I go
flooding around me when I stop

It must be something else


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