Post My Secret

Easy, quick, little love sick
Girls in cute dresses, long red tresses
Affection in a shot glass, no hangover when it will pass
Just something small to remember, a conversational bender
Pouring out thoughts onto woolen cots

You because why? We becomes I
A screen with no voice, filled with little bursts of rejoice
I shout out, a small letter and memories begin to re route
Where I am going in life, full of sorrow full of strife
But I am beaming you see, I've got you and you have me

Maybe not, maybe so, maybe I don't even know
So I jump, dance, love and climb; make these feelings mine
But not until we leave for good, this lovely little neighborhood
Grow up and look back once or twice, nostalgia that tastes like bitter ice
But I was told to make lemonade, from sour thoughts we once made