preoccupied
sending poetry to a russian girl
and rushing to class may as well fill my time up.
i don't want to be preoccupied.
not with the boy who split his edible with me.
why should i be?
i showed my poetry to the girl in my sociology class.
she might have actually liked it but try telling my brain that.
knew i didn't have the time but i thought it would be okay. it wasn't. so i rushed to class.
then i ended up dropping it and adding another.
preoccupied.
he's funny. so funny.
haven't heard his voice in so long. maybe i won't even think he's funny anymore?
he's strong. so strong.
i think i'm weak, like the effort my brain is making to stop thinking about him.
i saw him today. i threw up a peace sign when i saw him.
wished i could have talked to him.
but it's better that i didn't.
wouldn't have done anything good, i know that.
saw a friend of his today. avoided him. he's nice, i just didn't know what i could possibly say to him.
i'd really like to be the best that i can be. i don't know what that looks like. or how to get there.
maybe that's not with him?
i want to be with him.
i don't want to be with him.
why should i be?