||[Jun. 1st, 2009|03:28 am]
Teachers open the door. You enter by yourself.
Title: Last Senior
Disclaimer: This is a pure source of fiction. Things have been changed from the real story.
Summary: The end of Us.
As the first summer sun sets,
I look out my window.
I think about our last day.
In the empty halls,
Papers scattered and streamers thrown,
I see you.
For the first time since that day,
You look me in the eyes.
Thinking this is it,
You wish me luck with my future.
Tell me I am smart and creative.
If only it could last.
Summer is quickly approaching,
And although this isn't it for me,
Next year there'll be no time for you.
This is it for us.
I wish you well in return,
And mention my plans for the bike path.
I hope I will see you there again.
You smile at me.
"Maybe," You say.
Maybe. That's our word.
Although your day is filled of math,
You yourself are unpredictable.
I can't read you. Never.
Then I hear the unexpected:
"And maybe you'll forget me."
Forget you? Never.
How do you propose I do that?
Forget your hand on my shoulders,
Helping with the finishing touches of my lotion.
Fingeres firm and no callous in sight.
Pushing down on my tense shoulders,
They are massaging just as much as helping.
Forget your smile on a sunny day,
White and slighty crooked.
Probably has a soccer story to go along.
Braces are fixing that now.
Nothing is possible to erase,
even that dreaded day when we were caught.
So many tears and so many years later.
And its still fresh in my mind.
Two years later.
Instead I nod,
Simply saying that ends make me sad.
Coming closer, you say I can't cry.
You don't want to see me cry.
You've made me cry once already,
And that was enough for you.
Jumping, we both hear another teacher approch.
We freeze as they continue down the hall,
Oblivious to what she just witnessed.
I've a secret for you.
And you have one for me.
I make you lean down to hear me.
Confessing cannot be easy.
I'll miss you.
I'll never forget you.
And no matter if I'm in Iowa or London,
I'll cry for you.
My fellings will stay for you.
You take your time,
And seem uncompsed,
So unlike you.
You open your mouth,
Calling me by our nickname,
But sorry- You've taken too long.
You've ran out of time,
As the security guard comes.
He offers to take me to my carlot,
And I dare no refuse.
I say bye to you one last time,
Recieving one in return.
I feel your eyes on me and remember.
I begin to cry but I don't let you see.
Please: go to the bike path. The library. Meet me again.
I want to hear what you wanted to say.