you're just a mannequin
Why? JUST WHY. Why can't you say hi every once in awhile, why can't you just.. smile, just move the little corners of your mouth to form a god damn grin on your stoic face! The one you can never show any emotion because 80% of the time you look like a mixture of sadness and anger but also nothing at all and it just kills me, absolutely kills me that the other 20% of your face not looking as if a stick is up your ass.. you smile. And laugh and the thing is is that you have that kind of smile. The one where only the corniest and the most cliche of words can sum up. I really don't want to get into detail about how.. nice it is, but I like it. It makes me feel light, I guess. Oh and the part that kills me even more, like just straight-up homocide, first-degree murder crap is that I haven't seen that smile and laugh the way I want to other than last week, when you laughed because I cried and I KNOW I KNOW I make it a hundred times worse than it is because I know you didn't laugh because I cried but still.
STILL.
And I'm dumb, I'm REALLY dumb for trying to avoid you and how it ironically hasn't worked out since I never really see you anyway but when I do see you, I feel so small. And the thing is you didn't even really do anything. And I think that's why I try to bottle it up. The fact that OK FINE YEAH I LIKE YOU I REALLY REALLY REALLY LIKE YOU AND I'M GOING ABSOLUTELY INSANE BECAUSE I'M TELLING MYSELF OTHERWISE AND I GET RANDOMLY PISSED AT YOU EVEN WHEN YOU DON'T DO ANYTHING AND APPARENTLY I MAKE THIS TERRIFIED, HURT FACE EVERYTIME YOU PASS BY AND I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW. I didn't know I could not control it and it hurts. It hurts having to dream about you and realize and not true. It hurts knowing that you visited me at the library that one time and now there's not much of a greeting at all. It all just hurts. And I don't make sense, I know I don't but just.. why I guess. Why.
STILL.
And I'm dumb, I'm REALLY dumb for trying to avoid you and how it ironically hasn't worked out since I never really see you anyway but when I do see you, I feel so small. And the thing is you didn't even really do anything. And I think that's why I try to bottle it up. The fact that OK FINE YEAH I LIKE YOU I REALLY REALLY REALLY LIKE YOU AND I'M GOING ABSOLUTELY INSANE BECAUSE I'M TELLING MYSELF OTHERWISE AND I GET RANDOMLY PISSED AT YOU EVEN WHEN YOU DON'T DO ANYTHING AND APPARENTLY I MAKE THIS TERRIFIED, HURT FACE EVERYTIME YOU PASS BY AND I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW. I didn't know I could not control it and it hurts. It hurts having to dream about you and realize and not true. It hurts knowing that you visited me at the library that one time and now there's not much of a greeting at all. It all just hurts. And I don't make sense, I know I don't but just.. why I guess. Why.