I looked and wondered about you and thought, is she at work at the moment or Is she at home? Should I call around tonight or should I leave my thoughts to an assuming mind? I look and think too often, I never act on impulse. So an eve passes and I'm back home, looking out from my window.
I looked on out down, towards your house, past the green fence and towards the conservatory windows. They were lit bold by cream covered blinds, French by design. I store right on through and wondered, thought about who lay behind them. Your mother and father watching something on TV, you sat faraway, cast in the dim blue of your computer screen, playing some game, just doing anything to take your mind away from the trivialities of the real world. Wondering about him, perhaps stealing an odd thought about me? Maybe I'm not in your mind at all, maybe it's just you escaping from everything through a false reality.
But how I do remember how you were.I heard your dry wit and strength, how you hid behind it. Your mind opened and I caught a glimpse; underneath you are as fragile as every girl that I've met. Beneath all of that intelligence and layers of obvious individuality, you were just a girl lost by life. so I wonder almost every day about you. But I walk by and keep on walking, wondering about you.