Keep Walking, I Suppose

They keep flying away like bees,

off to sting someone else,

someone sweeter I suppose.

And I can’t keep wondering

if it’s something I’ve done wrong.

Because it just possibly can’t be,

when we eat ice cream in bed,

and goof around in the morning

after making love with our bodies,

and send each other videos like we’ve been together forever.

I’m just wondering when good conversation and laughter stopped being enough of a foundation

for you to want to get to know me more.

I can’t fathom how all of these little things

don’t mean anything to you,

when you pretend like they mean so much.

I guess it never feels like pretending

until you leave.

What exactly grabs anyone’s attention anymore?

When entertainment is everywhere,

and it seems that me,

just being me,

isn’t enough

to make you curious enough to stay.

girl on dock

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