Just A Literary Mess

I wanna run away.

Want you to come along.

I want things that sometimes, not even I know why I want them.

I want beaches and big cities.

Want you in them.

I don't quite know if I want any more innocence.

Without having any, we have enough.

I want to go on parades with you.

Want guys to stop trying or i'll punch them.

Nah, I don't care.

I wanna be able to write you something, something real nice.

Something that will make you think "dang, this boy really loves me."

But I can't think of anything. I think during the time together I tell you everything I want.

And have nothing left to surprise you with.

It frustrates the shit out of me.

Maybe I can't write out picturesque imagery of the daydreams we'll live out or the things I wanna do with you or what plans I have for the rest of our lives.

But I can promise it at least, and give you something to look forward to.

I'm a little hostile i'll admit, but not towards you, just everyone else.

It's just a little hard not being a little annoyed by the majority, that's all baby.

And I know this is a mess, not organized writing at all.

I wish this could be a little neater, so you could follow and get it and enjoy it.

But it really isn't, it's just random thoughts being thrown in there.

I blame my creativity, it isn't around as much.

To which I blame my settings, boring as they are.

You seem to make it all better though, for some reason.