Guitar Girl.

The phone lines are so long. They keep me
so far from you. The sound of you playing your guitar lulls me to
sleep on a late night. Your voice then rises me awake again
as you say "Don't fall asleep on me."
I sleepily replied back, with eyes closed.
"Baby, I'm tired."
"Will you be there Monday morning?"
"I'll try."
"Promise?" You asked with hope.
"I promise that I will try."
"Pinky promise?"
"I pinky promise, baby, I pinky promise."
With that we said our goodnights and hung up the phone. Your voice
continues to play in my head.
I wake up in the morning and my first thought is you.
I smile right away and text you good morning.
You make me smile, and I can't stop. Your seemingly abrasive presence
becomes sweet and innocent when we are alone. You're quieter and
you seem to be lost in a sense of comfortable silence. We
listen to the instruments play and I watch you out of the corner
of my eye. I pay closer attention to your body.
The way you stand and the way your hair whisps from
your ponytail. I wish I could watch that hair
billow around your face like a frame around you but
you refuse to let your hair down for me. Even when I beg of you.
Someday, I will.
I must go now, I give you a hug, wishing I could kiss you.
You make it so difficult to say goodbye.