He tried to kiss me and to touch my butt
Avoiding his approach, the passionate squeeze
I didn't feign interest, nor scold him
But I avoided his rut
I might have known his secret
That he was different in his sexuality
I still wanted a friend, if he left I'd feel regret
I could never despise a person for things they felt inside
I could never pretend, I'd prefer a dramatic suicide
He was hurt that I didn't return his interest
He was worried I'd hate him and assault him
But whatever lies one tells themselves to get through
Don't work for me
I had to be true
So I said I love you as a friend, but could never as a lover
And he said he couldn't be near me
His attraction was too great
So there was nothing left
In the end, there was no friendship, nor "union"
And I am left to wonder
And indeed
I don't believe orientation is a choice
Who'd ever want to be seen so differently
That to reveal themselves is a cause
Of betrayal and accusations of treachery
