everytime i think of you
there’s this tugging in my heart
a pull here, a push there.
and i don’t know what it means.
i don’t know if it’s love
but even if it is, i wouldn’t care
because it doesn’t matter
i would be on a bed crying anyway.
i replay every memory
and have done that countless times
every time i am tired or lazy
and i never get bored of you and me.
i am kind of short, and
i get mad kind of easily, i am crazy
half the time- but i am just
a plain jane kind-of girl to everyone.
