Try? I'd rather do.
Then make it all seem like it's less for you.
Perhaps we'd have got along better,
If all those mishaps were "probably not".
Stop
I'd have rather,
But who's still listening?
We let these things go,
Though still know,
That the extroverted world is listening.

She knows that I now
It's all still part of fantasy.

For her lack in interest of anything of mine,
Her subtle peace of knowing why,
Makes my bones quiver.

She's something I'd never realized I'd ignored,
Her curls, her peace,
Her shy, her eyes,

Maybe I was wrong.