Trusting people is becoming hard
Keeping my grades up is becoming hard
Feeling pretty is becoming hard
Thinking happy thoughts is becoming hard
Doing work is becoming hard
Maintaining a friendship is becoming hard
Doing everything is becoming hard and I don’t like it
I don’t know
At what point in my life
Words stopped having meaning;
It must have been
When he screamed,
And when he whispered,
"I love you,
I love you so much”
My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it.
The idea that you may kiss it again stuck in my brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about you since well before any kiss.
And now the prospect of those kisses seems to wind me like when you slip on the stairs and one of the steps hits you in the middle of the back.
The notion of them continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamiliar degree.