Stumbling and leaning
In all which ways
Nearing towards middle
Where you end all your days
Plastered on a white painted canvas
A grin creeps on the board
Without fail a yell "hey!"
A crooked bright look
Staring, at what I think is down
Though I'm not sure
Good posture doesn't come easily
Especially when it comes to me
You're feet are spread wide
But your hands seem to fidget
Are you faking your confidence
Or faking your nervous-ness
In fact, I could use the same question
Against all the things you do
When you look in my direction
And when you look at your friends
I'm unsure if it's instinct
Or a learned trait
Perhaps it is both
Or it is neither
Either way you have a personality
That checks all the right boxes
For all the right people
In all the right places
And so I can't say
That I love you in all honesty
Because I don't know if I love you
Or if I love what you give me
-A. Dream
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Huh, I kinda got pretty real with myself here didn't I. Wasn't expecting that to come out, especially because I haven't written in so long. This is a more unfinished project that will probably never be finished. I wrote this in like 10 mins and just wanted to churn something out real quick. This is not a come-back. Just a little something
YOU ARE READING
Lost Letters
PoetryLost letters that will never make it to you. (In a weird editing process, please bear with it)
