He may possibly think of me as an item,
or maybe as a goddess.
I pretend as if I don't like him,
oh but how I wish he would percieve me as modest.

I convince myself that I am
although I'm sure I come off pretty mean
because his presence is so very "BAM!"
and I'm just speechless at the scene.  

We used to be good friends,
in my mind I would say "best"
but then he had no problem moving on
and he clumped me with the rest.

I could've sworn I was special
or that maybe we were in love
but then he starts to date her on my birthday
and he's the opposite of what I dream of.

I just want some answers,
that's all I need is closure.
Has he hated me for four years
or was he just drunk when he chose her?

I look up to happy songs in hope that they will block the pathway of my thoughts to finding you.

I hate people who have an already determined style,
those people that believe they are hip because they wear exactly what everybody else is wearing, or they do exactly what everybody else is doing.

I aspire to be a mega nerd using large scientific vocabulary in my every day sentences, it makes me feel like a have a purpose on the earth and mean more to people than those stupid teenagers who only wish for themselves to be catergorized in the file of *** smokers and drug do-ers and drink drinkers.