Forlackofthingstodo
Earth, I hope
An eighteen year old with the mind of one whose twelve. / This should expect if you choose to delve. / Into the mind of one that is here and yet not. / Of the one whose thoughts remain fraught. / Of the one with music in his heart. / And a smile on his face. / Come, dear reader, let me take you a pace. / To a world very much of your understanding. / As space and time rending.
I never needed anyone.
I did it all alone.
I found nothing wrong with it.
Logging many hours into personal fantasies.
You came and went, I had no one to please.
Life was well knit.
That was known.
You came back.
Fade to black.
I forced words to fall.
You forgot how to breathe.
That's how I recall.
I sat back apprehensive.
Expecting the contrary.
Preparing a defensive.
Not expecting the rarity.
Then you spoke.
To this day I'm surprised you deal with my folk.
Past my yards of awkwardness, you found something there, and you found it value.
If this sounds cheesy you don't know the half of it.
But you might know most of it.
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC