What if I like the way you
stutter, the way you wipe away a tear that escaped in a sensual scene in a movie?
So what if I like the way you
understand me, the way you think you understand me and the way you completely
don't understand me?
So what if I like how your clothes are all wrinkled up, the way you carelessly ground your cigarette butt
to put it out along with your anger?
So what if I like the way you
hum along with songs that I hate & the way you head-bang to angry music?
So what if I like the way
we're so free it hurts, the way we blindfold each other and the way we're
suspended?
So what if your dreams crashed,
your dad isn't proud, you're bruised under that ill-fitting outfit, you're
scared shitless but you like me?
And what if my mascara
smeared, my nail polish peeled off, my hair is a mess, my dress is stained, and
I like the thought of you?
I never met you.
