I wait for your text.

After hours we don’t do much.

I see you,

You see me,

We don’t talk openly,

Be honest…

I know that I don’t.

 

The soft moonlight hits us as we walk past the old tree stump.

The tree was cut down because it was causing a wreckage with its long heavy branches during stormy days.

The tree was too much of a burden…

 

I feel like I’m that tree.

I feel like if I speak to you I am that tree.

I feel like if I try to get to know you I am that tree.

I feel like if I ask you about your dreams I am that tree.

I feel like if I try to help you I am that tree.

 

I feel like my heavy branches keep pushing you away.

Just like the homes that were broken during the storm.

 

I’m a burden that should be cut down,

Rejected for asking you about your life.

 

I feel like you’re ashamed of yourself.

I feel like you need someone’s help.

I feel like you are a lost soul who just needs some guidance.

I feel like you are an amazing piece of work.

I feel like you are someone who deserves to live more than the aimed amount of years that you told me about.

 

I feel like…

I am fantasizing what we have,

Again.