my best friend isn’t a hoe, but she hasn’t slept with me, she told me stories about other guys, I’ve just never been in line, I don’t think I’m waiting to give her a chance, but I’m waiting to love her the way she loves them.
that night I slept with my best friend things changed, when she looked up at me I saw an emptiness in her eyes, I saw something that wasn’t so porcelain anymore, my body began to feel grungy, I thought of my worthiness and decided that maybe I was trash.
nah, that couldn’t be me. I’m the same guy she always talks to, she’s the one whose fixated stare is at the wall behind me causing things to be different, and something in my brain just says she doesn’t love me,
“she did you, she did him, she did them, because she’s a hoe.”
I can’t call her everyday because lord knows who else is in her phone, she told me about him, who else? What’s the point of checking on her? If she’s alive I’ll see her on social media.
I’ll just hit her up every once in a while and say hey, but she’s probably swinging around the way.
But when I think about her moans, the name body against my silk sheets I want it again and again although I’ll never cuff.
I told her once that she just needed a good guy, I stood by the sidelines, I use to watch her cry, but now that time has passed us by I realize that our friendship was the biggest lie.
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