You can't fight it,
can't hide it
can't lie and say you like it.
your face is sick green with envy,
you want him.
not all of him.
but now,
you know his choice,
his condition,
his thought process in meaningful indecision,
you realise that he doesn't belong to you,
doesn't want to
does what he wants to do.
And he knew.
what you thought,
your carefree demeanour doesn't fool strangers,
let alone him.
He knows you better,
has held you truthfully
has treated you brutally.

you've always had a type.