We Can't Be Friends Poem by Za7ra Sulaiman

I don't think you ever really understood me.
I don't know why you even tried.

I don't want to tiptoe around this,
but I don't want to hide either.
I just don't want to keep feeding this fire.
I just want to let the story die.
And I'll be fine. I will.

We can't be friends.
But maybe we can pretend for a little while.
You hold onto your words, your letters, your memories—
Like if you wait long enough, I'll be the version of me you want again.

Maybe I will.
Maybe I won't.
Maybe I'll just sit here with my truth,
and that will have to be enough.

I don't want to argue.
But I also don't want to swallow my words just to keep the peace.
I think I'd rather disappear than do that again.

You got me all wrong.
But at least I look good doing it.

We can't be friends.
But we can pretend.
You'll keep writing, waiting,
hoping one day I'll be easy to love again.

You made me.
Or maybe you think you did.
I don't like the version of me you put on paper.
But I'm still here, hanging onto something I can't name.

Not what you made me,
but something else.
Something softer, something real.

And maybe—for now—
it's just me.
Maybe that's all I need.