mostly just because no one likes having that talk

no, i'm not mad.
i'm confused.

because i'm pretty sure just a week ago
i walked you home in the rain
and even though you only live two minutes away, i got soaking wet for you.

don't get me wrong, i understand.
you have very pretty eyes that get really big when you laugh loud
and you're plenty fun to be around
but when you tell me
'i mean, yeah, okay, there are feelings, but i just don't really feel that pang to be exclusive you know? so, i mean, what's the point?'
all i can say is 'yeah. okay. i mean... yeah.'
'cause, you know

i mean. yeah.

'cause no, i'm not mad.
just surprised.

because i'm pretty sure the other night
the night i went down on you for the better part of an hour
you were pretty into me.

and yeah, i was pretty into you
more into the fact that you were pretty into me
and more into the fact that i could finally say i was seeing somebody again
but there wasn't a long list of cons
though the pros weren't really tipping the balance.

so no, i'm not mad.
just overwhelmed with a crippling sense of inadequacy

is that too dramatic?
because i'm pretty sure nothing stings more
than slow, cross-eyed rejection
and when i'm certainly not devastated, you still got me to hole up in my room and write another passive aggressive poem.

would we call these poems?

but no.
i'm not mad.
just, you know.