In the backseat of the bus
We sit alone
Just you and me, so quiet
I want to say something
To break the awkward silence
But I see that you are
Watching the lady in the second row
Clutching her umbrella tightly
In the grasp of her wrinkled palm
Almost like the way you hold my hand
Possessively?
I would say, maybe
But we've only met once
And no matter how you say
That I look beautiful
I get this awful feeling
Deep inside my heart
That you will think otherwise
In a month or two
But
There are many things I so adore about you
Your smile, for instance
Makes me think of an impish grin
That only a boy in mischief can pull off
Your saccharine words
Are they real?
I doubt in hoping that
Those sweet nothings, they don't mean a thing
Midnight calls, you try to please me
Without much effort
But I keep refusing
And for once
I contemplate if you do it to every other
Girl who walks along the street
I know that you're a G
And I'm an A
Somehow these two don't always meet
In the stars
But I seem to like
The way you keep wanting me
And pushing me off at the same time





























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