The Prince

You type “how are you”
And “STOP IT”
In the same chat window,
And it’s so easy to say
“I’m fine” or “good”
Than to tell the truth.

And you just float about,
Day after day in that
Fluffy bubble of yours,
Feeling like some sort of
Sunshine prince
That you aren’t.

And you ask “how are you”
And make lewd jokes,
As if I’m some random whore and not
The one who knows you best;
The one whose heart you broke.