souls in their socks.

what does this have to do with maturaty,
this little game we call love,
why does it come down to how grown up you are,
why does it come down to how serious you are,
why can we act like childeren,
laughing and smiling,
why must everything be so ominous,
so impending,
so serious?

i've told you my insides,
but you say you dont know me.

i thought this would be fun,
letting this grow,
when i knew i should have stiffled it,
i thought this would be perfect,
something i could be happy with,
something i could relish finally,
and hold on to for a while,
but you twisted it up,
and changed it right in front of me,
from a free love,
to a contract.