You're twenty two
and I'm only sixteen.
Your mind is closed and wisdomatic,
and mine is still carefree.
You have started your life with beautiful care,
while I'm freedom-less and naive.
I feel as if I'm falling into my mother's footsteps
while you're free to think.
Free to know.
Free to love.
You're too old for me, yet I'm
irrevocably stricken by you.
I know you are scared to feel the same for me,
I know you fear saying "I love you too."
But you love like no other, dear.
And i wish constantly
you were staying here.
You make me feel so alive;
my rise above a numb coma.
Please don't ever say goodbye.
Keep your promises and I'll keep mine.
