i love you.|
i. yeah, you. suprise.
you're the one everyone knows i love. and shit, do i love you.
i carefully wrote my modified initials on my wrist, in purple sharpie, and left it there. the only reason people didn't figure it out instantaneously was because i changed the last initial to a K.
you're the bane of my existence, and all of my friends love you and hate you, simultaneously.
i don't even know what the hell is going on, half the time. you're as unpredictable as my bedtime.
when you're mean to me, i'm completely destroyed. and when you're nice, im ecstatic. and everyone knows why. there's nothing secret about it. for you, my subtlety drops.
i just wish.. so many things.
ii. keep holding on.
you're that girl -- the girl, actually. the only one.
i've only ever been broken up with once, in my whole life, and girl, you hold that title.
our being together at all was a huge surprise; just to get there, we had to go on personal missions of self-discovery.
you always say 'i love you', because you want it to be the last thing you ever said to me : i'm happy you told me that. now, whenever you do, i smile.
i love talking to you, but it slightly kills me each time; especially when you speak of other people. i guess i'm jealous.
i cry, when i think of you. god, i love you. and you saved my life. and.. yeah. i love you, i love you, i love you.
i need to tell you more.
iii. because i own you.
but you know, that isnt even it. its a delightful bonus, your reciprocation.
there's something about you. maybe how sweet you are, maybe your innocence, your honesty.. whatever it is, i know it isnt just because i never see you, however much you'd like it to be true.
i hate that you think its pointless. it kills me to know that you think im being silly, wasting my time.
we've never kissed; i find it sweet, and slightly maddening, all at once. someday i'll fix that -- but i surely won't rush it.
i wish i could see you more -- it crushes me that it seems you don't.
still, you completely delight me. always.
iv. illusions of grandeur?
i don't even know why you have a place in my heart.
i see you once every two years, maybe. maybe. and when i do, there's nothing there. nothing meaningful, anyway.
when i think of you, i really wonder if you ever think of me. if you even give a damn. something tells me you dont.
i want to believe you do. but you're a guy, and im a plaything.
you won't even talk to me. ever. even when i try to talk to you. doesn't give me much hope.
still, im ridiculously happy to see you. happier than one would think.
not that i know what is going to happen.
Alyssa is a hooker.
She loves four people.
Oh my.
Scandal.
you're the one everyone knows i love. and shit, do i love you.
i carefully wrote my modified initials on my wrist, in purple sharpie, and left it there. the only reason people didn't figure it out instantaneously was because i changed the last initial to a K.
you're the bane of my existence, and all of my friends love you and hate you, simultaneously.
i don't even know what the hell is going on, half the time. you're as unpredictable as my bedtime.
when you're mean to me, i'm completely destroyed. and when you're nice, im ecstatic. and everyone knows why. there's nothing secret about it. for you, my subtlety drops.
i just wish.. so many things.
ii. keep holding on.
you're that girl -- the girl, actually. the only one.
i've only ever been broken up with once, in my whole life, and girl, you hold that title.
our being together at all was a huge surprise; just to get there, we had to go on personal missions of self-discovery.
you always say 'i love you', because you want it to be the last thing you ever said to me : i'm happy you told me that. now, whenever you do, i smile.
i love talking to you, but it slightly kills me each time; especially when you speak of other people. i guess i'm jealous.
i cry, when i think of you. god, i love you. and you saved my life. and.. yeah. i love you, i love you, i love you.
i need to tell you more.
iii. because i own you.
but you know, that isnt even it. its a delightful bonus, your reciprocation.
there's something about you. maybe how sweet you are, maybe your innocence, your honesty.. whatever it is, i know it isnt just because i never see you, however much you'd like it to be true.
i hate that you think its pointless. it kills me to know that you think im being silly, wasting my time.
we've never kissed; i find it sweet, and slightly maddening, all at once. someday i'll fix that -- but i surely won't rush it.
i wish i could see you more -- it crushes me that it seems you don't.
still, you completely delight me. always.
iv. illusions of grandeur?
i don't even know why you have a place in my heart.
i see you once every two years, maybe. maybe. and when i do, there's nothing there. nothing meaningful, anyway.
when i think of you, i really wonder if you ever think of me. if you even give a damn. something tells me you dont.
i want to believe you do. but you're a guy, and im a plaything.
you won't even talk to me. ever. even when i try to talk to you. doesn't give me much hope.
still, im ridiculously happy to see you. happier than one would think.
not that i know what is going to happen.
Alyssa is a hooker.
She loves four people.
Oh my.
Scandal.
No comments:
Post a Comment