She has a weird habit of biting straws when drinking
until they're beautifully deformed;
she does the same thing even with the edge of disposable cups.
She always makes faces,
that's the first thing I've seen she's done
the first time I saw her.
She easily gets jealous
when I give "too much attention"
toward other things (or people).
I can't say I like it
but that's what she does that really diversifies her
from other people I know.
She almost never combs her hair.
She pouts her lips.
She speaks in a way that's almost chivvying.
She's always insecure.
You know what they say about butterflies?
They don't see how beautiful their wings are
so they live their whole lives believing they're not beautiful.
She has this bizarre wont to start telling random stories so suddenly,
I am not yet ready to hear them.
She's strange yet fetching.
She's odd, she's unique.
She's mysterious but innocuous.
She's peculiar.
I mean, how can you just
suddenly fall in love with something unfamiliar.
Like how comforting it feels
to watch the stars for the first time.
Then, you'd realise
that you don't even know
much about the stars.
And when you finally do learn
that they're distant,
huge and probably something
you won't be able to lay your hands onto,
you'd start to think twice.
Then you'd lay your back
on the grass (or the roof)
once more.
You'd look upon the glittery night sky.
And think it's fine;
you'd still watch the stars.
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 6:16 AM UTC
She has a weird habit of biting straws when drinking
until they're beautifully deformed;
she does the same thing even with the edge of disposable cups.
She always makes faces,
that's the first thing I've seen she's done
the first time I saw her.
She easily gets jealous
when I give "too much attention"
toward other things (or people).
I can't say I like it
but that's what she does that really diversifies her
from other people I know.
She almost never combs her hair.
She pouts her lips.
She speaks in a way that's almost chivvying.
She's always insecure.
You know what they say about butterflies?
They don't see how beautiful their wings are
so they live their whole lives believing they're not beautiful.
She has this bizarre wont to start telling random stories so suddenly,
I am not yet ready to hear them.
She's strange yet fetching.
She's odd, she's unique.
She's mysterious but innocuous.
She's peculiar.
I mean, how can you just
suddenly fall in love with something unfamiliar.
Like how comforting it feels
to watch the stars for the first time.
Then, you'd realise
that you don't even know
much about the stars.
And when you finally do learn
that they're distant,
huge and probably something
you won't be able to lay your hands onto,
you'd start to think twice.
Then you'd lay your back
on the grass (or the roof)
once more.
You'd look upon the glittery night sky.
And think it's fine;
you'd still watch the stars.
