You told them you went with everyone

You told them you went with everyone.

You meant you went alone.

When they asked about the setlist,

you said a song that wasn't played,

and they didn't correct you—

they just smiled

in that specific way

that means they know,

that means they're watching

to see how deep you'll dig.

The coffee got cold.

You kept talking,

adding details,

each one a small failure,

each one a thread

in a story that wouldn't hold,

and they sat there

letting you unravel it yourself.

You could have said the truth.

Instead you built this thing

out of nothing,

this fiction of belonging

to a group that was there,

and now you're the only one

who knows

you stood in that venue

completely alone,

completely yourself,

completely unable to admit

that sometimes

you do things

just to do them.

And then you lie about it

to people who already know.