sitting here in silence as i look at your name,
wondering what it really feels like to be in your shoes.
cheesy as it may sound, you are truly an enigma,
and that's what scares me about you, i wont know when you'll be bored of me

when the time comes, i want you to trust me,
it's ironic though because i'm the one with trust issues.
i don't know how to really describe us,
are we strangers or are we more or am i just talking to myself.

i may just be getting in over my head but,
i'm excited and happy and just overwhelmed with positive feelings thinking about these different possibilities in the future,
but at the same time, i'm scared. scared because it's new for something good to happen to me. so please, for my sake, just tread lightly.

if a goddess from above and lucifer had a kid, it would be you.
every weekend with you was new, but always started with you giving me a face full of make-up & one of your raggy shirts that i so desperately loved but you just picked up from your closet floor, not even thinking twice if it smelled or not.  i didn't really care though, because even if it was ***** & smelled like your usual pack of malboros that i hated, i would try to find the slight smell of your lavender perfume that your ex-boyfriend got you from a cheap kiosk in the ****** mall we refuse to enter.

every time i come over i have to wake you up because you always oversleep whenever you take a nap before we go out, leaving a half-eaten bowl of soggy cereal in your lap & i always wonder how the hell it doesn't fall on you but then i remember that whenever you sleep by yourself you never move because when you were eight you were scared of monsters sensing you in the dark & you didn't want them taking you so you never moved from your spot in your little twin sized bed.

you made sure to always take your moms car quietly whenever she fell asleep which was  usually around ten at night & i always listened to your instructions on how to follow you because i didn’t want you to be angry with me because you were known to have anger problems & that was one of the reasons you were sent to utah for a year.

you gave cats & sinners feet the path to run into mischief. you gave them wrath & you gave them love leading both to leave you & me wondering where you are now as i sit here writing this. hopefully thinking you’ll be in that little twin sized bed with your cereal & ***** shirts the same way i left you.

i’m sitting under my covers writing this & thinking “my handwriting looks ugly” but then i remembered that this will be typed later so it won’t really.
but i care about details, details that fill this paper, details filling my head.
to knick away at someone’s details like a scab you really want to pick at, but your mother told you “no”, that little desire to know & feel more, gnawing at your skin.

it’s scary, ya know. scary, psyching myself out each time, i hate messing up yet i always do.
things get cloudy, so i can’t see where i’m going or what to really say.
but then those clouds, so start to fade and i’m closer to the ground than i thought i was