Repress

How we've grown close,
Over the years.
What, three? Four?
I've changed from that overbearing, awkward boy,
And you've stayed the same; that mysterious mystery girl, quiet, shut-in,
Now I think it's an act....
You aren't quiet, are you? How can you go out on the weekends and be quiet?
Or a recluse?
But I still care for you.
I've grown tired,
Then forgave and became hopeful,
Then tired of you again.
Do you see why I'll wait around for you,
Girl?
Don't you get what they call it?
I'm waiting for you, girl,
As long as I can,
Because I won't cross these monstrous streets,
Until you're holding my hand.

Reviews

[Akira Kodama]

I like how (at least it seems this way) a lot of your seperate pieces somewhat come together and tell a story. I feel a sense of...longing with this piece, but I believe something else that I can't describe goes along with it. Great write.

[Xanthous Crow]

Thank you for the review, Indigo. I get a mixed feeling when I read it, as well. It's strange.