The mysterious unknown that I hate to love.
Calm, collected and quiet: leaning against the wall.
I watch two eyes watching the world in front of them.

Reading thoughts and seeing emotion flash across an unmoving face.
I could write a book about those lips.
The ones who trap words like flies, and speak like jazz music,
blowing their notes into the warm wind.

When he watches me, I know my cheeks change color.
I am a human mood ring, see the colors that I bleed.
Never letting me leave, and never giving me the chance to want to.

Small gaps of time for thinking,
Only st-st-stammering.
Until I have no reason to.

My mind an echo of recorded moments and my eyes a moving picture.
Until we meet again.