There is a girl in the mirror I, wonder who she is. Sometimes I think I know her, sometimes I wish I did. There is a story in her eyes, lullabies and goodbyes. When she's looking back at me I can tell, she's hurting inside...
Nine times out of ten my mind is not where it seems.
I'm constantly over thinking life and replaying my battles over and over.
I find it hard to put away all the hurt that happened in the past I miss so much and think always of the what ifs.
I wanna be your little girl and be told I'm beautiful, hear you threaten any boy who breaks my heart.
I miss your laughter, your fun, the ability to make me smile even after you've pissed me off.
I miss my grandmother's wise words that made you want to wake up every day and be something different.
You acted more like a teenager than my friends were, you taught me to always look on the bright side and that never deny a person the privilege to be trusted.
You showed me not to judge anyone because even though they might be having a hard time or look a little differently they are still human.
I'll miss grandpas giant hands and the way you squeezed my neck, how you weren't fond of 'I love yous'
Your silly jokes that would make most people think our family was sick and twisted.
You we're there for me with everything and always wanted me to make the best of things.
Now me being me I would type all this out and delete it, but let's see if I can make this help me.
he said to me, 'you're perfect,
and i want you to be mine.'
but i felt i wasn't worthy,
and to be perfect, i need time.
i knew it would be worth it.
and i could be better if i tried.
then he got tired of waiting,
and i watched my chance go by.
the both of us were swept with exhaustion,
and yet neither of us could manage to fall asleep.
i had warned you ahead of time that the size
of my bed wouldn't be generous to the both of us.
but that night, i learned that the less space
in between was always for the better.
the spatter and trickling sound of raindrops
was slowly becoming our favorite soundtrack.
and every inch of your gentle skin
would soon become my favorite taste.
but it was in the way you touched me that
even novel of description couldn't suffice.
and how do i describe the way it seemed as though your
fingers were making love to the scar along my waist?
or how a part of me would somehow shut down
when you would sigh right in my eardrum?
no matter how far into slumber i seemed,
i would never forget a single detail,
because that was the moment
that i knew i only wanted you.
i saw that you were perfect and so i loved you. then i saw that you were not perfect and i loved you even more.
i'm in love, i'm fucked, i'm weak.
i won't kiss you. it might get to be a habit and I can't get rid of habits.
i like to be alone.
but would rather be alone with you.