What did I do?

That’s what you asked me.

That day, when I wasn’t at lunch.

I was avoiding you. Because of what you did.

You were crying, I felt bad, I didn’t look up.

I couldn’t.

Cause I knew for my sake I couldn’t, I would feel bad for you.

That’s what you wanted, to make yourself the victim.

To make me the bad guy.

But I wasn’t,  No I’m not the bad guy.

I’m a guy and your a girl so obviously I want it, want you.

But I don’t,

That didn’t stop you.

From hugging me for too long.

To the point where I could feel my anxiety bubble and my throat close.

From laying on my crotch while waiting for everyone else to get there.

For three minutes, even though I told you to get off.

My dysphoria spiked and I felt wrong.

Because I didn’t want anyone near my “d*ck” area,

I don’t want anyone near it.

But you ignored me and smiled at me like I should have been smiling too.

And you invaded my space as punishment for leaving the maze without you.

And you blamed me, walked over expecting forgiveness.

When my friends had left and I was alone in the commons.

You came up to me crying and trying to play victim.

Because I can’t be a victim.

I’m a guy and your a girl.

I should want it.

I should want you.

But I hadn’t, I don’t, and I never will.