Brown eyes and literature

When she laughs she’ll stare at the floor
But her forehead , it turns red .
And when she smiles ..
It’s really with her eyes …
Leaving her makeup ruined
she really hates that .
So don’t point it out .

She reads books I don’t completely understand
She likes to dream about Neverland
She believes we’ve somehow been tricked into adulthood

I envision her running away
Living out of a suitcase and camera
A postcard waiting to tell the tale
Of her great escape
Probably to a place with sunflowers
Her favorite
She’s afraid of staying in one place too long
of monotony
complacency .
I’m afraid of sunflowers …
All I ever think about is Steven king somehow … I don’t know why . They’re just scary .
There’s another thing
She’s known me for several years
She says I ramble
Quietly though as I rub the back of my neck or run my hand through my hair …
Almost like I’m trying to talk myself out of saying what I want to say …

She also tells me to focus
When I’m sitting across from her
To look her in the eyes
Let the room fall away
“It’ll help you on a date ”
That’s her big thing
Cause I talk too much
About everything
And I multitask while I explain
Watching people
And things …

She doesn’t open up
For a long time
But she’s worth it
She’s tough
Short and to the point
Very opinionated
Almost prophetic

She wants to see the world
And she will …
If she loves
It’s forever
If she opens up to you
Don’t give her silence
If you give her silence
She’ll leave
She doesn’t have time to waste
Waiting on you
She has the world
Calling to her .
That’s just who she is ….

One thought on “Brown eyes and literature

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