He, She, (They).

He, She, (They).
He is the poem i could never write,

He is the painting that will always lay unfinished in a basement covered in cobwebs.

He is the thing no artist, of any kind,

Could attain.

He is the cure that doctors wish they had.

He is a boy who went down an unstable road,

Where the planks on the bridge began to crumble beneath his feet.

Yet he found his way across.

He is the one who will capture your heart by offering you a cigarette,

After a fight with your parents.

He will make you feel so high,

Meanwhile; your stone-cold sober.

He is the soulmate that never quite worked out,

The oh-so stereotypical “One who got away”.

He is the boy of your dreams,

And your nightmares.

He is someone you could dedicate your whole life studying,

And never figure him out.
She is the girl that will die before she lets him know.

She is the not-so-great painting in the basement you pretend never happened.

She is the girl you don’t dedicate a lifetime to,

A cigarette under the bridge girl,

Someone you crossed paths with.

Kinda complicated but uneventful at the same time.

She is the girl who will mess things up.

She is the type of girl who could be figured out if the right person tried.

If HE tried.

But no one ever does, do they?

She is the girl who will move on, but not cause she wants to,

But because she has to.

She is the girl no one believes will get better.

The one who “could have” gone so far,

But went down a wiry path.

The girl who fell off the wagon more times than can be remembered.

The girl of missed opportunities.
They will savor every moment they have.

They will be the smartest dumb people you have ever met.

But, they will also be the ones who drifted apart.

She will die not ever telling him,

And he will die oblivious.

But maybe not,

Maybe they will be friends until they die,

Maybe they figure out their difference in feelings.

But i don’t quite know cause,

(between you and me),

 she hasn’t decided.
—sadiya kubba-stepp