02.24.13

a small ballerina bun, wears the girl softly whispering. speaking in a language only her lover understands. she knows not of consistence, not of dedication or commitment. she finds security in her quiet, peaceful corner of the world. often, she secludes herself into the nostalgic, artistic crevices of her mind. if, quietly, you can hear her whispering, become her lover. see and understand the soft language of the precious, young girl with the ballerina bun.

02.08.13

Why do I give you the time of day
If all you do is take my breath away?
Since I'm out of sight and out of mind,
Why do you still consume my time?
Your sweet gaze is so intriguing,
How can I find myself still believing?
Yeah, I'll admit, I still wish it was me.
I do still wish we could talk endlessly.
But that's not possible now.
You've changed.
I've changed.
We're different.
Yet, so much the same.