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You know those girls who look like they're made of honey and glass? My best friend happens to look just like that; like sticky sweet ash with eyes that seems to know way too much.
Black teas and music in the afternoons after class and the strawberry desserts of her lips as she kisses mine, and you just can't get the taste off your tongue?
burn sugar and a little bit of rum?
Dress drenched by the rain as she dances and sways, wet to the bone and Yaomomo looks beautiful, as always, but there's something in the way her feet move that makes me think that she's not here just to play.
She never seems to know when she's totally gone, but the way of a proper lady is nowhere to be seen when Momo softly cries when the drops hit the stone.
But she's still the life of the party when I take her to my home, making jokes to make me laugh as I let her take a bath and I smile; but deep down I know nobody flinches when they take off her clothes.
Yaoyorozu's on top of the hill, when she doubts she hides it but still, she pushes through. In her red tight suit as she knows her worth.
Sometimes I wonder what's it like to be one of those girls, to sit in the sun and look at the world and never think: Wow. Am I enough?
Because for Momo is easy when she knows she's the main character and I'm at her side thinking "This is not fair" but her smile makes it hard to be mad.
It's not her fault I'm so fucking sad.
As another year passes my lips tight shut as I crave for affection, any type of kindness she's willing to spare in my direction.
I guess I'll just sit here and look at these girls in the sun, dancing in the rain and having their fun.
and maybe one day I'll be able to forget the past.
and those half way innocent kisses after class.
and now i write this in the solitude of my room, knowing well enough that this song will never suffice how much i want her to know that: damn, i wish she was my girl of honey and glass.