Mar 2013
I met you.
You were a stranger.
A stranger that I needed to acquaint.
Soon, your voice was enough to make me forget all that haunted me.
Now your voice is the ghost.
Maybe it’s the lack of sleep.
Maybe it’s the last traces of THC tickling my senses
Or maybe I really am crazy
But I can’t finish a ******* thought without another coursing through me
Everything about you courses through me.
Your stare
Your touch. Your soft, gentle touch.
The way you perform magic on my body, just because I know you’re on your way.
Today, you sat next to me.
You sat close which was nice.
You could have sat farther.
But instead your knee touched mine. Your shoulder touched mine.
But still, I couldn’t look at you.
Before I couldn’t look at you for fear of blushing.
Now I can’t bear to look you in the eye
For fear of you knowing just how much I care.
And not seeing that same deepness in yours.
Now, every once in a while I get a glimmer of hope.
Just a bit.
Enough to know what we had wasn’t a hoax.
But then again
Every once in a while I also feel a stab
Right in the heart,
Every time I feel your rejection
Perfectly sober now.
And I still can’t think clearly
Some say you’re an *******
Some say you’re great
You think you’re terrible.
I think
I think
I think
No.
No one really cares about what I think.
They understand, yes.
But it doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter that I’m in love with you.
All that matters is that you do not belong to me.
All that matters is that you hurt me.
Why do these things, the things that are the only ones that matter to others,
Get pushed away by me?
The one that does matter?
I guess I might be losing control every day.
Losing you, losing the feelings you had for me.
Losing my sanity along with it.
I guess I shouldn’t give you that much credit though.
You aren’t all that makes me Krayzee.
Exams, dwindling of grades, and being broke probably have something to do with it too.
However,
I’d be lying if I said that ghost of a voice didn’t make me shiver
That just the memory of being in your car didn’t make me quiver
That every time I made you smile didn’t make me feel on top of this demented world.
They say people’s opinion of the world reflects their opinion on themselves.
Demented.
Definition?
de·ment·ed [dih-men-tid]
adjective
1.crazy; insane; mad
How ironic.
Guess I am Crazy Kara.
But I guess you’re already there as well.
You were a stranger.
A stranger that I needed to acquaint.
Soon, your voice was enough to make me forget all that haunted me.
Now your voice is the ghost.
Maybe it’s the lack of sleep.
Maybe it’s the last traces of THC tickling my senses
Or maybe I really am crazy
But I can’t finish a ******* thought without another coursing through me
Everything about you courses through me.
Your stare
Your touch. Your soft, gentle touch.
The way you perform magic on my body, just because I know you’re on your way.
Today, you sat next to me.
You sat close which was nice.
You could have sat farther.
But instead your knee touched mine. Your shoulder touched mine.
But still, I couldn’t look at you.
Before I couldn’t look at you for fear of blushing.
Now I can’t bear to look you in the eye
For fear of you knowing just how much I care.
And not seeing that same deepness in yours.
Now, every once in a while I get a glimmer of hope.
Just a bit.
Enough to know what we had wasn’t a hoax.
But then again
Every once in a while I also feel a stab
Right in the heart,
Every time I feel your rejection
Perfectly sober now.
And I still can’t think clearly
Some say you’re an *******
Some say you’re great
You think you’re terrible.
I think
I think
I think
No.
No one really cares about what I think.
They understand, yes.
But it doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter that I’m in love with you.
All that matters is that you do not belong to me.
All that matters is that you hurt me.
Why do these things, the things that are the only ones that matter to others,
Get pushed away by me?
The one that does matter?
I guess I might be losing control every day.
Losing you, losing the feelings you had for me.
Losing my sanity along with it.
I guess I shouldn’t give you that much credit though.
You aren’t all that makes me Krayzee.
Exams, dwindling of grades, and being broke probably have something to do with it too.
However,
I’d be lying if I said that ghost of a voice didn’t make me shiver
That just the memory of being in your car didn’t make me quiver
That every time I made you smile didn’t make me feel on top of this demented world.
They say people’s opinion of the world reflects their opinion on themselves.
Demented.
Definition?
de·ment·ed [dih-men-tid]
adjective
1.crazy; insane; mad
How ironic.
Guess I am Crazy Kara.
But I guess you’re already there as well.
