I had a lot of ideas to write about your soft sweet lips on mine or maybe about the way you'd kiss my forehead instead of french kissing because my mom might be looking down on us from my balcony, but then you told me something that made the green trees in my spiked up forest to start losing their leafs while they decoloured first into orange (when you told me you were confused and I thought: "Well we all are") and then into gray (when you told me we should distance for a while) and suddenly all of the leafs in my spiked up forest fell as fast as I fell for you but this time nobody caught them, they landed (more like crushed) onto the hard land and they broke and they were smashed and they were forgotten. Now I look at myself with some new scars and a new anxiety attack to tell, my therapist about and I wonder if you ever thought about the consecuences, or if you ever thought I'd care as much as I do, Or if you ever thought that maybe I fell for you as rapid as the leafs fell from the trees. I got a glimpse of your arms, but somebody poked your back.
