I can see you watching me. Watching my lips move in the form of syllables smeared together as words. I spit them out all in a rush, but you’ve caught all of it, I can tell. Because you see, I’m watching you as well. I’m watching from the corner of my eye, and you’re not smiling. My dear, what has wiped that silly grin off your face? Could it be that I just mentioned that I met someone new? Someone who might just be better than you?
I can see you watching me. Staring me down with dark brown eyes, the same ones I used to stare into before placing a kiss on your lips. But now, we do not kiss. You are the one that is watching my lips. I’ve grown accustomed to your stare, only because I’m overly aware. You are there, and I am here. So please stop staring and just come back over here? As much as I lie to myself and repeat these lies to everyone who asks, yet, there you are sat. There you are, and here I am.
Come on over, I don’t bite, I swear I won’t argue, or start a fight. I just want to stare back at you, and see you staring back at me. Those deep brown eyes, the ones that are watching me. Watching my lips as they await the return of your kiss.
(This is an excerpt from my diary, all articles I post that are straight from my diary, typed word for word as they'd been written, and can be found under the folder "Diary Excerpts" on my profile)
Yours Truly,
Jacqueline
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