What is it?
What is it that you'd like?
What is it that you'd "like"?
What did he write?
What did he text you?
What was it that made you answer "I'd like it!"?
What made you send that very answer to me?
What made you send that very answer accidentally to me?
I know you, you're not mean: it was a genuine accident
But the world really did pull one on me
If I could have not known who it was for it would have been benign
That's all, that's all I can think of
What is it?
I know who was supposed to received that fucking text
You know that I know
And I wasn't supposed to get that
How did you let that happen?
"I'd like it!"
Three words, three goddamn words
I've never hated words like that
I can read it in your voice too
Full of warmth and enthusiam
Never in my life such a simple line has been so heavy with meaning meaning meaning
They're a fucking tide of connotations
And I can't imagine a single one that's good for me
Why didn't you send it to the right person in the first place?
Wasn't it enough that he kissed you in front of me?
It's hard for me to look elsewhere when I'm at an arm's length.
How many fucking hints do you think I can pretend to ignore?
Did you tell him?
Did you tell him you've sent it to me by mistake first?
Did you think it was a big deal?
Did you think I thought it was a big deal?
And if so what did he answer?
Could he imagine my guts twisting and my throats making knots?
What is it that I'd fucking kill and die to know and yet
that I really really really don't want to know?