Friends

Why do we have to choose? Carry those axes around with us. Blame the leaves that fall for the changes in us.

It's not like the door was locked. You could've walked through it any time you wanted.

What no one seems to understand is that what I want isn't what I need. Because I don't need anyone. But sometimes, yea, I want.

Is it pity for? Is it your own desperation? Have we not learned anything from each other? That desire is so easily mistaken for dream. And then when you wake up it's just that much harder to make the bed you've slept in together.

I want to feel soemthing again. I admit. That intensity that used to drive these frayed words. But I don't. And even if I could, it almost doesn't seem worth all the effort.

We were friends. Before everything else. To me we were. And after too. We were following roads that never led anywhere. Stranded together.

But when you got your engine started again you left me standing there. With nowhere to go and no reason to care.

Alone because I want to be now. Because friends are just lovers who don't want enemies. And love was just an excuse we used to feel each other.