He’s my best friend

He already knows all my secrets

Given up easily, with a flick of the wrist

What he calls issues, I call secrets

It makes me sound more interesting than sick

A fear of intimacy? What’s that?

Can we talk about this?

He’s my best friend.

The next time he asks

I’ll just say Yes, yes.

No, I’m not leaving. 

Why do you ask?

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