thoughts ≠ sx

prose

i'm just a child.
i'm young, naïve in a sense.
i don't know what love is.
you think you do.

you tell me you love him.
sometimes i believe you.
you tell me you love him.
sometimes i really hate you.

you think you know
all the things i don't.
what it's like to love;
what it's like to trust.

you say you really love him,
but honey, you hardly do.
i know you don't love him,
and i think you do to.

he smiles and compliments,
and you're using him.
he's all perfect, a year older,
everything someone wants.

but for some reason,
because you grew out of childhood,
you're better than me,
that you suddenly know more.

and yeah, you think you're mature,
you think you know.
and yeah, you think you're older,
but darling, it's only a month.

only days, seperate you and me,
but with him, i'm entirely young.
but don't you think, i know,
i want the same thing.

here at thirteen,
watching people fall in love,
it's almost overwhelming,
how much i know.

and just because,
i'm vulnerable,
because of my personality
i'm not as barbed as you.

people look at me,
my t-shirts, dresses and jackets;
people look at you,
small shorts, tank tops and cleavage;

how would anyone look at me,
at this day in age,
where everyone wants mystery,
no one plays it safe.

you're a countryside drive,
on a motorcycle,
i'm a night in,
with a movie and soft smiles.

you're frantic kisses,
broken heat,
i'm small affection,
but i'm amazing too.

you'll break their hearts in a week,
i'll hold until i have to let go.
you get irrationally mad,
i'm too good for my own good.

so why am i,
comparing us,
when in reality,
we're both just striving.

there are different things,
qualities in ourselves,
but you know, in all honesty,
maybe i'm better.

i'm a cool drink of water,
you're the burn of soda.
it all depends on who you want,
a lover or a fighter.

and i'm not perfect.
neither are you.
but darling i'm biding my time,
you're just running on.

so when you finally collapse,
a mile away from the finish line,
as i waltze by, energy saved,
i'll have the one worthwhile.

or at least,
it's all my theory,
all my speculation,
about you and i.

[]

if i could fly,
-sx