I should have grabbed your
hand.
Pulled you close to me
and lied.
Lied that I don't like blonds or
that one girl, with the blond
hair.
How romantic right?
Me staring into your eyes and
you're staring back.
But then you'll know the truth.
That I'm just a lost puppy
Looking for a home,
a place to stay,
a girl to listen
and some wine to drink.

But you can't know this
and you never will.
Instead you'll know half of it,
that I do like your hair and I think
about it all the time.
Brown with little blonde stripes,
I also like the way you talk, especially when you're drunk
without a care in the world.

****, now I sound like a *****.