I could talk about you for days
And still you wouldn't know who I was referring to.
Darling, I wish you'd see yourself the way that I do.

sometimes you're like homework
so confusing
and i just stare at you
absent-mindedly
hating you
yet you're important to me
it's so hard to finish you
and i lose inspiration every now and then
but when i get high as my grades
i come running back to you

i can't wait to graduate from school
get rid of this infatuation
we would be adults by then
and hopefully this mess will be sorted out

I did not want to write.

Maybe because I didn’t know
If it were right for me
To ache with such feelings:
To feel the abandonment of,
And feel the longing for
The arms that always seemed to be there to catch me,
But never there to hold me for long.
To hear the voice
That had always calmed my raging thoughts.
But never in those moments
Have I ever heard it with my own ears.

I did not want to write.

Maybe because I didn’t know
If I even deserved
To feel this sad, and so alone
When all I’ve never done
Was to make you feel the opposite
Of what I’m feeling right now.
To feel like I have lost
A love
That I never even gave a chance to begin with.

I did not want to write.**

But I guess,
There’s nothing else I could do
To hoard and keep-
Or maybe to squander and let go
Of the suffering
That may not even be love
But just a blind infatuation.

Something pretty,
but not exactly bright.
Something dim,
among all the lights.
Something catchy,
if only you learned
to stop looking for things
you would only squint at.
Something worthy,
of all the time
you've neglected to set aside
just because you thought that rushing
wouldn't leave you behind.