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So it all starts when you're screaming at me, accusing me of things without giving time for explanations.
I believe you are awesome. . .or you could be.
There was something I saw before I moved in with you.
You weren't pretty but I saw beauty in the making.
Sometimes the problem in love isn't we aren't ready to meet our other halfway. Sometimes we arrive halfway at the said meeting time and the venue is empty. Love is about the efforts made.
I want you. The long nights we had talking junk and sipping chilled cool aid is still in the attic of my memory.
I won't lie. I want you.
But if you keep choosing a script which reads out of focus, I would have to live even if you're still in the room.
I would have to turn up the music, do a dance and let joy in.
Life is short. Time is precious. I am on a mission. I will be waiting for you when you're ready for me.
The day you left, my side eye caught you packing your things. I can't deny I didn't know when you were about to leave. As I danced to the loud music, a part of me by default prayed that God would make you stay. But then you were gone.
"The day you left, my side eye caught you packing your things. I can't deny I didn't know when you were about to leave. But then you were gone.
After you were gone, someone asked after you. We searched the whole room. We looked for you everywhere imaginable. We turned upside down the couch we had sat and watched reruns of Dawson's Creek on. Your favorite mug broke as we searched the kitchen area. 5 hours later I remembered you actually had left the room sometimes earlier."
