We laugh like nothing’s wrong,
but I can feel it,
the tension just beneath the surface.
You know my secrets,
but you use them like ammo
when it suits you.

We’ve got history,
but sometimes I wonder
if we’re friends
or just stuck in this because we’ve been here too long.

One minute we’re talking like old times,
the next, we’re sizing each other up,
waiting for the first slip,
ready to call each other out.

It’s not hate,
but it’s not loyalty, either.
It’s a strange mix,
like a friendship with a catch.
I don’t know if I trust you,
but I still want you around.

We keep pushing and pulling,
holding on just enough
to not let go completely.
And somehow,
it feels like this is just how it is now.