"You're too Good"
No sooner had the words left her lips had they embedded in me like jungle shrapnel. The esteem was as complimentary as it was cauterizing. "You're too much of something else for me" is how it would read to me.
We bantered in chemistry. We laughed at bad puns and stupid jokes. She smiles deeply in her eyes.
"You're too good"
I want to laugh at the notion, but a dream within me has desired a woman like her to see something like that in the mess of me.
Its good to just write again. Speak words unanonymous to a gallery of no one in particular. Like having a conversation in an alley way or hill top trading secrets with the wind.
