You're sitting across from me in a shitty diner in anywhere, America, and I watch you pour too much creamer in your coffee and I think "I love you". You look up, catching me staring, and for a moment I think I'm brave enough to say it, but I take too long and the moment passes. Instead I take the balled up straw wrapper and flick it at you, pretending that was my plan all along. You laugh. I never want to go another day without hearing that laugh. I think I will have all the time in the world to say it.
(I don't)
YOU ARE READING
The Pointless Book
RandomJust a collection of pointless thoughts from a pointless girl
