Laying in your bed,
lying out of my head.
If it takes one to know one,
why are we letting us be misled?
We want to believe.
To set our fingers free.
To let them intertwine with each others in-betweens.
To be fourteen.
Before we knew that this is the best that it will ever be.
We know what happens next, after the ***.
After the sheets dry and the kisses fade from our necks.
We know what we left.