Friends

I don't want to be your friend. It isn't fair: to change me, to make me try, to make me believe. And then, two hours later decide that it's nothing. I opened up for you that night, told you my flaws, gave you the ability to crush me. But I didn't expect you to be the one to do it. I didn't want you to mold me, make me your own. And yet, you did. You decided I wasn't enough, wasn't the person you wanted. But you made this, me, us, into exactly what it is. So, no, I don't want to be your friend. Late nights, long talks, waking up in your arms; That's not what friends do. I let you in, now let me let you go.