I want someone to read
Everything I've written.
Maybe someone will find this
When none of these things will matter
Any longer,
And then they will understand
What was going through my head.
Maybe no one will ever read my notes
And that's okay
Because if someone did
It would be like a slither of my thoughts,
My real thoughts,
My wild thoughts,
My duality of man,
And I'm smiling now because
I'm thinking about English
And you're in my English
And I can write about you
And no one would know.
Look how my mind wanders
This is why I write things down so
I can control the
Uncontrollable thoughts;
The demons in my mind.
Because, to be honest,
You take my breath away
And give me butterflies.
Maybe because you give me the
Attention I have been waiting for.
I think I want attention
But not too much.
Just enough to make me feel noticed.
Just enough
To make me fall for you.
(Found between a patch of daffodils at the edge of Wild Cherry Park)
YOU ARE READING
Faded
Ficção AdolescenteBecause in the end, we are all irrelevant. Especially me. {A series of notes and letters written by a girl called Chloe McMullen, found in places you would least expect}
