When I leave the room, everyone thinks I truly happy. When the truth is- I ain't. Not even close. Sometime I think I am- but in truth I ain't really sure what that means.
The air is cold on my arms, little bumps appearin' on my skin in no particular pattern. I rub my hand against' 'em, watchin' pure magic as they disappear. The moon ain't bright today, jus' a sliver in the sky, surrounded by thousands of tiny pricks of light- stars. I beneath my tree- too scared to stay asleep in my bed and wait fo' daddy to tuck me in. Chances are he won't be there- but the rational part of me never wins.
The tree's bark is rough on my back, but not too rough that it ain't comfortin'. It's holdin' me up- it the one thin' that can't possibly crumble in my life. Because it so strong- it ain't never gonna change. I sigh- tryin' to close my eyes and sleep but I almos' too tired to be able to do that. And my mind won't shut off. I keep thinkin' 'bout everythin'. 'Bout Mary's horses, and the Mistresse's jewels and daddy's papers.
Every time I driftin' off, I think a new thought and my eyes snap open. I figure tonigh' is gonna be lon' one.
"Why you out here?"
I look up at the shadow- already knowin' who it is by the voice. I can't tell much what 'is face looks like in the limited light, but I can tell by his stance that he real relaxed. An' I can tell by the way he asked the question- that he almos' expected me to be here. It weird- cause I almos' expected 'em to come too.
"Why are you?"
He don't answer right away, takin' a seat next to me. He ain't close enough to touch- not even if I reached my hand out completely straight. But I can still feel 'em on my skin. It makes me all antsy- my heart jumpin' up and down. I pretend it cause I afraid.
"I come out here a lot- sometime it nicer to sleep under the stars, than under a sunken' roof."
"I out here cause sometime it nicer to sleep beneath the angels than sin inside."
My answer don't make too much sense- but he don't question it. We fall into a silence and eventually he moves in closer so our hands are only inches apart. I don't have to reach out far to meet his skin now. I don't really need to move at all.
When I on the brink of sleep- I swear I feel his fingers wrap round mine- but I ain't sure if that real or jus' a dream.
And I ain't sure which one I want it to be.
The air is cold on my arms, little bumps appearin' on my skin in no particular pattern. I rub my hand against' 'em, watchin' pure magic as they disappear. The moon ain't bright today, jus' a sliver in the sky, surrounded by thousands of tiny pricks of light- stars. I beneath my tree- too scared to stay asleep in my bed and wait fo' daddy to tuck me in. Chances are he won't be there- but the rational part of me never wins.
The tree's bark is rough on my back, but not too rough that it ain't comfortin'. It's holdin' me up- it the one thin' that can't possibly crumble in my life. Because it so strong- it ain't never gonna change. I sigh- tryin' to close my eyes and sleep but I almos' too tired to be able to do that. And my mind won't shut off. I keep thinkin' 'bout everythin'. 'Bout Mary's horses, and the Mistresse's jewels and daddy's papers.
Every time I driftin' off, I think a new thought and my eyes snap open. I figure tonigh' is gonna be lon' one.
"Why you out here?"
I look up at the shadow- already knowin' who it is by the voice. I can't tell much what 'is face looks like in the limited light, but I can tell by his stance that he real relaxed. An' I can tell by the way he asked the question- that he almos' expected me to be here. It weird- cause I almos' expected 'em to come too.
"Why are you?"
He don't answer right away, takin' a seat next to me. He ain't close enough to touch- not even if I reached my hand out completely straight. But I can still feel 'em on my skin. It makes me all antsy- my heart jumpin' up and down. I pretend it cause I afraid.
"I come out here a lot- sometime it nicer to sleep under the stars, than under a sunken' roof."
"I out here cause sometime it nicer to sleep beneath the angels than sin inside."
My answer don't make too much sense- but he don't question it. We fall into a silence and eventually he moves in closer so our hands are only inches apart. I don't have to reach out far to meet his skin now. I don't really need to move at all.
When I on the brink of sleep- I swear I feel his fingers wrap round mine- but I ain't sure if that real or jus' a dream.
And I ain't sure which one I want it to be.
