w.y.s.i.w.y.g.

with such a good memory, i can’t remember 
momentarily, that is, your beautiful eye color. 
it happened so suddenly, that’s what everyone says. 
especially me, heartbroken and searching, i guess. 
so unlike before, we can talk almost all the time, 
compatibility is really difficult to find. 
that’s all changed now, i feel a comfortable niche 
for now at least, but now i can’t determine which 
way i can live on without causing little or much 
distractions and turmoil, the past had such. 
but in any case, that’s all past tense, 
and for the most part, it made no sense. 
shifting gears, i see you, you see me. 
and well… i wished she liked me. 

instead of ignorance, i’ve found bliss 
in all the moments where i don’t go amiss 
not to insinuate, nonetheless, she actually cares 
she seems to like my jokes and i like what she wears. 
this time, i’m going down low and secret 
it’s gonna be like last time: just don’t blow it. 
i plan on having a better outlook and attitude 
nothing cruel and devious, deceitful and rude. 
i just act upon impulse, like i always have 
in the past they’ve crashed and burned, don’t laugh 
because i’ve learned my mistakes, and just so you know 
i’ve got all the words to prove it, but nothing to show. 
so having said that, i see you, you see me. 
and well… i think she likes me. 

people can talk and say what they want, 
and these same people say happiness can’t be sought, 
now i never said that girls were life’s answer 
to every problem we have; go ahead, just ask her. 
she won’t know, and neither will i; 
the reason i like her, not even why. 
we just talk like normal people, laughter and all, 
emotions in check, we speak without flaw, 
or so it seems; yes it seems, that this may be. 
but i may or will, never ask that question: 
do you like me? [what impulse?] 

love is the movement i’m weak enough for, 
and starting to think of you all the time, 
my mind is numb and my body so sore. 
had so much heartache, i don’t want anymore. 
yet, love is the movement i’m weak enough for. 
everything about you and me just rhymes; 
hold that thought there. 

- [nel.ito]

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