Its okay, i understand.
His hair, his lips, his hands - all the things that you can touch.
And i know that i am bland.
My hair, my lips and my hands.
His personality makes me smile so much.
I understand how he makes you feel and what you think at night.
I understand that it wasn't quite love at first sight.
But how can you tell me you your crush crushes you; would his love make me above you?
Im slipping, im not being me - when he catches my eye its killing me, when im sad hes not there, why does he always stare? If he loves her why ask me? Why not just live ever after happily? I hate this i shouldn't have wrote it ;im more singer than poet, shes looking at you now i see her but still i never want to be her who would you take a bullet for? Who am i writing this all for? Im screaming into a digital pit and im sick of your stare im sick of it you leave me be and i long for you you come near me but im not for you friendship wilting its not the end, middle or beginning these words are fragments and im lost im waiting for your heart to defrost i cant stop i cant stop how can i stop when you're still gone commas left behind punctuation needed planned word count exceeded if you're my motivation is she yours? When you speak of her your words, swords, im drowning in ideas my throats full of words unspoken when will i be awoken freed from my own cage exit my own stage im sick of it and i cant stop and i cant stop and
Im going to stop.
