I guess by all the years we’ve shared I could call you my brother But each time I am ask to explain our relationship I stutter
As hard as when the stud in me is ask to wear a dress and her world stop. And she has to stand up, to the world’s expectation of how present yourself
I know I don’t fit into the way you expect a woman to present herself.
Our relationship is not as straight forward to tell, as one cigarette is to light, but more complicated and twisted to tell like the story to every left behind bouquet of roses.
When I tell the story it hits me right in the gut… which makes me shut up... cuz you’re not in my life like I want you too
the words “I love you” my mind eagerly wants to be translated into “ im in love with you”
but that my mind does not do, and all my mouth do is to silently mouth the “in” when I say…"I love you".
Would it kill our current relationship if I said it? Would it ruin my life, let it fall down into bits.
We both know that you would never say…”Im in love with you too”…
So I cover up by acting like a stuck up…a stuck up miss.
That eagerly wants to taste your lips doing passionate French kiss,
but instead let girls, covered in pearls, cover my body with their kisses while we talk and let them wish that one day I’ll call them my misses
But they never will, and when I tell them they get still and it’s not my will to hurt them
But it’s needed because all I want you to say is “me too” when my mouth finally say “im in love with you”.
The love for leather jackets and boots came to me when I realized that "we" won't happen…
then instead I started to idolize you. when I cant be with you its easier to be like you.
In the end I never think I’ll say anything other than "I love you" when you hug me with that fit body of yours.