I'm frustrated by you.
Things don't feel the same; this isn't blind infatuation.
I feel on the brink of being over you, but I'm not, and I'm not sure how I would.
You're kind and smart, and so very attractive.
But you're arrogant and that bothers me.
You make yourself bigger than the people that are important to me and I don't like seeing that
But I also don't like taking sides against you.
Don't argue with Flower, please.
You don't think you do it,
But you're unaware of the size of your voice, your presence.
I'll take his side, I will, it's involuntary, it's what I do.
And you may never know, I don't voice it, but it makes me mad
At you.
But then you say something sweet,
Like call my disposition rosy
And boy, I melt.
Like when you say
"I'm here"
I don't know that you are,
But I'll believe it anyway.
I think I have eyes for you
And I'm not sure if you're looking past me or seeing me.
(I can't sign this 'Peach' as I don't feel like 'Peach' when I'm with you, and I'm realizing that that may be the biggest problem.)
