the things i want to tell you

are really easy sentences to make. impossible to say, apparently.

i throw up my arms and walk away, tell you to get out, i'm not in the mood, why do you come over? you make me so mad.
inside i'm this stupid girl, pontificating all the reasons you're bothering the hell out of me.
really i just want to tell you
that i need you to be more than what you are right now. that i seem to have put you up on this pedestal, that sometimes i may or may not let your looks sway and charm me and in my head i'm creating a personality behind it that doesn't match the man i'm looking at intently. sometimes you can be stupid. there i said it. but it's true. i throw hints and tips like daggers and they miss you as you're too busy messing with your phone or music. head bent. miles away.
i need to tell you
that sometimes you make me feel lonely. and isn't that the opposite of what i should feel?

i wish i could talk.

everyone i know has this little conversation stored inside my head. they'll never hear the words in the jar with their name on it.

instead i'll just pout some more.

everything is fine.

right?