Closer to Him.

I get moved closer,
To the seat closer behind him,
Honestly, Whelan!?
I doubt he knows I"m watching him,
I wouldn't be surprised if he did.

I thought I was over him,
Finally set free,
But I guess I need to apply more burn-cream,
To the flamed hand-print encased in my memory,
Because it's starting to act up again.

He looked at me,
And didn't even smile back.
Sent a silent message of annoyance with his eyes,
Because I know all he wants,
Is to be left alone.

It takes all I have,
To simply fight back tears,
Because that orange jacket is just a beacon tower,
To signal his arrival,
When I never want to notice him.

When I don't want to notice him,
He always seems to be the most noticeable.
He always seems to TRY to hurt me,
Because he never even says "hi" anymore.
He doesn't even hold eye contact.

He always just ignores me!
So even when I get moved closer,
Even to the seat right behind him,
I doubt he knows I'm watching him,
Because he just doesn't even give a shit.