wandering through the dead, through the forest, thinking over clouds and how you smile,

how I treat you like your perfect because I believe you are despite your ignorance, despite your indifference - maybe I'm wrong.

but still, some part in me doesn't care, I want to stroke your hair, come right here.

pretend to give me affection, choke to use your words, and come right here.

don't you want to tell me how beautiful I am (I'm not hiding), why do you act like I'm no where to be found?