we circle the park

December ? 2024

Written by Jada Harris

this is nice, you said,

pretending to be a couple, pretending like we’re in love,

so the people passing us on the street as we circle the park

will look at us and want what we have,

even though we’ve never really had it and we never really will,

we’re liars, tonight.

star crossed lovers, tightly holding hands, pretending like children do,

I trace scars on your arm and you shield me from strangers,

and I laugh at your jokes and your eyes linger too long,

and we do the things that people in love do but there is no love here,

and I hold you like I wish you would hold me but your arms go limp at your side,

and we go for a midnight walk and I feel like I’m the moon above us following you,

I feel like I’m the house cat that just won’t move on,

like I’m an old memory you just can’t seem to shake,

like I’ve been waiting all my life to be wanted the way that you’re pretending to want me

and it reminds me of how much I want to not have to pretend,

so I do things like answer the phone when you call even though I know I shouldn’t

and you ask to see me and I let you pretend like you’re mine and I’m yours

because it doesn’t feel as bad as knowing that we are nothing and I am no ones,

let’s pretend a little longer?

you said, as we circle the park,

and I don’t look at you when I say okay because I’m really scared of saying no,

like I was also scared of saying yes until I met you,

and now I never say yes to things when I want them or no when I don’t,

I say, okay,

and we pretend,

and we pretend,

and it hurts like an open would

like a bone that won’t heal

like a bruise that doesn’t fade

like a bloody, mangled, desperate mess,

and I say, okay,

and we circle the park again.