It's like we were destined for each other but weren't meant to be together.
Like we're playing tic-tac-toe but you keep giving me x's and I just go "oh".
It's like I want to believe you don't care,
but how can I even come to that conclusion when my breath catches in my throat everytime I hear, see, and feel you...
when I haven't even given you a chance to play devil's advocate.
It's so much easier when people reject you, harder when they remain silent.
Like two trains, we stay parallel on our tracks, so close but never touching. So close, but never touching.
It's kinda funny how that one thing that makes you happy also made me intoxicated so that my mind could be fuzzy and I could finally get the courage to talk to you.
It's kinda sad how you don't even have to say a word to make me ***** several, carving me like a pumpkin while my poetic
seeds spill out, one by one.
So honey, I'm waiting for the day where we can be amidst the hills of a luscious italian winery.
Your suntanned arms stained with the very soil that nurtures those sweet grapes, sipping barolo from our overpriced wine glasses,
even though I've hated red wine all my life but you put the red back into my life, so naturally I came to love it.
Waiting.
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 8:10 PM UTC
It's like we were destined for each other but weren't meant to be together.
Like we're playing tic-tac-toe but you keep giving me x's and I just go "oh".
It's like I want to believe you don't care,
but how can I even come to that conclusion when my breath catches in my throat everytime I hear, see, and feel you...
when I haven't even given you a chance to play devil's advocate.
It's so much easier when people reject you, harder when they remain silent.
Like two trains, we stay parallel on our tracks, so close but never touching. So close, but never touching.
It's kinda funny how that one thing that makes you happy also made me intoxicated so that my mind could be fuzzy and I could finally get the courage to talk to you.
It's kinda sad how you don't even have to say a word to make me ***** several, carving me like a pumpkin while my poetic
seeds spill out, one by one.
So honey, I'm waiting for the day where we can be amidst the hills of a luscious italian winery.
Your suntanned arms stained with the very soil that nurtures those sweet grapes, sipping barolo from our overpriced wine glasses,
even though I've hated red wine all my life but you put the red back into my life, so naturally I came to love it.
Waiting.
