He's like a summer breeze
That's ever so slightly blows
Through your hair.
He was fresh water and I was
Salt water. Once you mix even the
Tiniest bit of fresh water with salt water
The fresh water is left poisoned,
Intoxicated by the bitter taste of you.
I see him walking through the halls
And it pains me to know he barley seems
To be affected by my presence.
The color of his backpack, more or less
The color orange, is the one that leaves
A bitter taste in your mouth that never
Really goes away, no matter how much you
Want it gone. He's the summer breeze
While I am a cold winter night. We only collide
Together for a meer second til it vanishes in
The light.
YOU ARE READING
Rants.
Short StoryJust some crappy thoughts I managed to string together to create a decent sentence. I have no friends and the few I do have could care less. Rants I have decided are for the weak... I rant about everything from the color of the sky being a shade off...
