it’s just my journal.
My shape shifts, time persists, and I can read what’s on your lips. Just spit it out, I have no doubt that I already know what you’re about. I hear you, beauty. I saw you, typical. But something about the way you are at the end of the night, at the end of it all, it’s different. It’s a challenge. When you explain your actions, it’s interesting. You can make me feel so uneasy, and special at the same time. The way you move, it’s how we communicate with eachother. It’s unique, you don’t ever critique me. I used to think you had it all, but your just a lost soul. You wander around the wrong places, music blaring, trying to find someone who’s like you. You said you just want to be able to talk with them. They don’t want that. You said to me ”why can’t every girl be like you?” I am right here, You had me, You have me, I’m who you want, but I’m never enough.
