i'm so turned on by the sunless sky, the effortless clouds strung about. it reminds me that i might see you in another life, one we don't know right now. where the trees grow from the sky and houses sit on sponges and when you pass by you're enthralled by all the distaste of everyone living inside. and our mother passes out pamphlets reminding the masses of a savior. that's my cue, i hide from no one, in front of nobody. i'll stay like this through winter when i'll come out so you can see my breath, proof enough that i'm alive cause you said you can't see my body of lies. at first i thought you were being figurative but then you looked pass me.
sometimes i wish i could write this story from your point-of-view but i remember you're a shell of a human and you'd probably describe it all in one word.
and i guess it all inflates my hopes, and then i pass the place where you work all day into night. i see you through the window, try and recreate your day. i worship your interests and i'm smitten with your speech. no matter how i change the story, it always ends with the same conclusion, i don't blame you for not seeing much in me. you're pleasant and i'm really not. but you wear your clothes too tight, haha. i can still laugh behind your back.