Being Nice Don't Return Love 2 Right.

  
I sat dressed in green and grey. She wore gold. I sipped from the bottle. She chose a paper cup that was old. She couldn't fill it to the top. I kept telling her to stop. She never looked into my eyes. I started to think if I told her I was sick she wouldn't know I was making it up; she wouldn't care. I ordered grilled salmon and salad. She ordered steak and fries. It seemed like the air between us could be cut with a knife. We disguised our thoughts with fake interest. "Oh really?" comments were thrown around like napkins removed from our chest. Stained by the substance of something more than either of us chose to reveal. What happened to the non-stop laughter of yesteryear? The yesterdays that were celebrated like a gift punctuated by tears. She beat me to the punch as we sat in silence. A left hook revelation of a lack of innocence. I became obssessed with seeing her eyes. I freestyled my desire as if to say I still had the gift to romanticize. The destination of my words took a long time to get there. Nothing seemed to work, at least nothing that made me aware. I used to thank heaven for her; even God knew this. We'd never allow love to disappear because each moment was bonded with a kiss. I wished. She said no. I took my words back. She told me it was too late. I was blindfolded by the energy between us. She said nothing more needed to be said. Not just over my eyes but my mouth was that imaginary cloth placed. And when she walked away that was it...I was out like a foul taste..