Even on this long road of thoughts; some days I don’t know my way
with words – as to describe your face; it just drives me so insane.
“You’re so pretty,” feels a bit too plain; so it always bears down on
me, this pressure. A rock in a hard place, and I’m also being pressed
with stones, biting on my words, that I bruised my lip. Slowly sinking
deeper, and letting blood flow – being so afraid of your reflection of
me, staring back from your eyes, as my tears dance along a running
stream. How you’ve become this silhouette of a perfect dream.

But I'm not as deep as I seem to be; just like swimming in a pool, I
first need to find my feet. And I’m only a pebble against your skin;
trying to skip across our conversations, and finding a reason to kiss.
But instead, I'm laughing in the bathroom mirror, letting the echoes
of that room wash me clean. And it would seem in vain to say I
fell in love with you – even as I wear your smile under my skin.

So I quietly let those very six words find their rest, and go back to
my bed, and sleep – cause who the hell really feels the depth of
those words, over a late-night text?

Never too wise to stay up late, with the opposite friend.