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.