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My dog smacked his head into my face today and slammed my piercing into my teeth and lip-- and all I could think about was our first kiss.
You, drunk and giddy, and me full of butterflies as you grabbed my face, and the first one was too fast, too hard, bounced my bar off my teeth and made me pout-- the second one was softer, but the look in your eyes felt broken.
I want to cry, just thinking about how many kisses I never got from you, how many times I should have held you closer, how scared I was to overstep your boundaries and so I let you make all the moves. Except for that one night, and all the things I wished I could do to you, for you, but never got close enough for.
You never did let me in.
And now, now you've shut me out completely-- did our friendship really mean so little to you, in the end? Because it meant the world to me.
Maybe I built it up in my own head too much, maybe I moved too fast. Maybe this was inevitable.
You, drunk and giddy, and me full of butterflies as you grabbed my face, and the first one was too fast, too hard, bounced my bar off my teeth and made me pout-- the second one was softer, but the look in your eyes felt broken.
I want to cry, just thinking about how many kisses I never got from you, how many times I should have held you closer, how scared I was to overstep your boundaries and so I let you make all the moves. Except for that one night, and all the things I wished I could do to you, for you, but never got close enough for.
You never did let me in.
And now, now you've shut me out completely-- did our friendship really mean so little to you, in the end? Because it meant the world to me.
Maybe I built it up in my own head too much, maybe I moved too fast. Maybe this was inevitable.
