Lying on the couch playing mobile games,
I’m fumbling every one of interactions.
I don’t know if I want you to feel the same,
But I’m paralyzed by fear of rejection,
Projections, predictions, predilections.
You dont message me like you once did,
That’s okay, I know I’m extraordinarily mid.
I’m average cloaked in silly rhyming prose,
You think this poem is about us, I suppose.