I am a child
And you are a child.
Our affections for each other,
Therefore,
Are childish.
There is so much pressure
To make everything seem
Mature, Adult, Sexual.
While I can appreciate these almost familiar concepts,
My childish heart and naïve mind
Typically dwell in the Land of the Innocent.
How nice would it be to
Hold your arm as we walk,
Feel your hand pet my hair,
Fall asleep against your shoulder at noon,
And know that
You think I am cute.
Maturity hinders us,
Adulthood scares us,
And sex just gets in the way.
I desire an innocent love,
A childish, giggly, cute little crush,
The kind that belongs in kindergarten,
The kind our friends laugh at
But secretly long for
In the hidden away childish part of their souls.