I wonder what it is like to been seen.
To be a regular at a coffee cafe,
where all the baristas know your order,
and they always have your grande nonfat extra shot white mocha ready for you,
with your name written on it in scratchy calligraphy,
when you walk through the door at 8:44 in the morning.
To be a drop dead beauty queen,
to walk down the street in the middle of the day,
with perfect hair and a dazzling smile,
and to have everyone turn to look at you as you go,
and to say "Wow, she sure is something special".
To be someone's everything,
who knows all of your little secerts and special quirks,
who can cheer you up with a stupid joke or a sappy love song,
someone your parents would approve of,
someone to love you till the day you die,
to have them look at you and breathe out a sigh,
and wonder how they ever lived a day with your body laying next to theirs.
I simply wonder what it is like to be anything at all.
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 2:31 PM UTC
I wonder what it is like to been seen.
To be a regular at a coffee cafe,
where all the baristas know your order,
and they always have your grande nonfat extra shot white mocha ready for you,
with your name written on it in scratchy calligraphy,
when you walk through the door at 8:44 in the morning.
To be a drop dead beauty queen,
to walk down the street in the middle of the day,
with perfect hair and a dazzling smile,
and to have everyone turn to look at you as you go,
and to say "Wow, she sure is something special".
To be someone's everything,
who knows all of your little secerts and special quirks,
who can cheer you up with a stupid joke or a sappy love song,
someone your parents would approve of,
someone to love you till the day you die,
to have them look at you and breathe out a sigh,
and wonder how they ever lived a day with your body laying next to theirs.
I simply wonder what it is like to be anything at all.
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