no one can tell me that friendship exists in open, bright spaces when my best friends kiss and tell in the dark.

I twice ended things with boys 

who texted me 

flirtatiously. 

I stayed up late to tell them things with my thumbs

that my lips would never taste. 

I carried myself like a vessel 

for their satisfaction. 

Late nights in closets 

and I thought I had friendship 

perfected. 

I wanted so badly 

to be wanted

that I would crash endlessly 

upon their shores. 

These boys,

who told me stories 

about what it was like 

to be wanted.