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.