Her face lost its flavor and it's all alright
I have no specific taste when she comes to me broken
A butterfly's flapping wings flair up every time she vents
Venting of a new pronounced dead heartache
Today it was at a quarter to four and I'm still overlooked
I aim for the floor
Gathering crumbled comments and taboos
Held between layers of breaths
Pain and hectic days scrolled in her eyes
Stumbling words poured from a cotton mouth
Re-verbed into me in a lonely voice and sometimes
Migrating over the phone lines for my ears to absorb
Pieces of the puzzle connect slowly
As I embrace her in one way
But, it compels me into the dreaded friend-zone
Not exactly where I want to be
A rampaging wheelchair warrior I am
Exhausted by her questions
And where am I from all this?
I comfort her with little white lies
Humming nursery rhymes of shoots and ladders
Only to hear the untold cracking the silence
A warning that there's nothing inside her for me
Nothing inside except for the dreaded friend-zoned
Long pondering stretches passes through me
Needing drastic measures otherwise this is where it falls apart
Because she looks at me but doesn't see me
I am where she wants me, close enough to be friend-zoned
And I'm far from my designated destiny, to be in her end-zone
I regret this merged segregation
And gaze for a new attitude
Awaiting the next breakup
While I bring this chapter to a closing
Getting closer than close
Faces tell stories
I'll touch in one of them
A suggestion on how to feel me
The way I am meant to be
And for her to tell friends
That I'm in the end-zone
It's time to tell friends
That I'm in the end-zone