Wednesday, 6 February 2013


Sometimes you're so close that I could just reach out and touch you. But I don't. Sometimes when I don't see you looking my way, I keep staring until you do but then I feel like a creep staring at you so I stop soon enough. I hate putting on this mask and walking into a cubicled world where I must pretend I've never held you or will never get to. I hate how I don't have a good idea about what I am doing or whether its alright and you seem sure about things and when you're not I've nothing conclusive to say.