She passed the second post it, using
a doctor to mark the pages of the confusing
book that touched me. And look,
she knows what's coming. I seem
sick, but in a good way, like a dream,
not like the people in the book.
She followed my directions, now
I play a waiting game, for thou.
She reads and reads, but doesn't cry.
Everyone has, so I don't know why.
I promise I'll try to help you feel,
but there is no try, there's only do.
I wish to be the one that turns it real,
I wish just once to make her say ooh.