Here we are again, the same routine- this is the part where I wait around forever, while you take your precious time
Tell me, do you enjoy playing me as easily as a fiddle? You say these sweet words over and over, but do you really know what they even mean?
Do you realize how fast those words can run out, like ink from a pen? Actions are much sweeter than words- Words just tell the tale, its the actions that tell the story.
Do you enjoy wasting time, rather than trying to spend it worth while with me? I don't understand you, and I' not sure if I ever will- I open up to you, just to end up shutting you out again.
You must not know torture like I do. The pain is poison, the pain is a prison that I can't escape from. I am like an overly cautious butterfly that will not emerge from it's cocoon.
I fear that I will not grow with you, I fear that you are drawing me two steps back. I do not wish to be a caterpillar- I am much more than that.
I have wings, but I conceal them away from others because they doubt my ability to change, they doubt the swirls of colors designed on them by nature made just for me. You do not know me.
I wish you did, but you only know me from the outside- You're not looking in. My intentions are pure and true, as for yours- I have no way of knowing. We are two of a different kind.
This time around, it is me that is the magnificent butterfly, and you are the slimy caterpillar still learning to crawl.