Illustration by Courtney Thompson
There are a million others with your name.
There are a million others with soft brown hair.
There are a million other science geeks who wear white T-shirts and hoodies,
And hopefully,
There’s a portion of that million who won’t ask me to be their friend.
—–
Because they don’t want to be my friend.
—–
And I know you don’t really want to be my friend.
—–
So please,
Don’t hold my face when you say it.
Don’t look at me as if you’ll crumble if I turn away.
—–
There are a million others,
Without the heat,
Without the light.
—–
I don’t want to be friends.
You don’t want to be friends.
—–
So please,
Don’t call me again.