11 IN THE BUS

I would see you walking to the bus ...and there goes my heart again. Being the problematic organ it is, it begins to beat unconsciously . You would smile at the door and walk like a flawless magazine brand model-innocence written all over your eyes. You would find me, looking away from your gaze.

Why did you want to share the closure now?

I'd pretend to be enchanted with the outside , your eyes would scan me, scan my face and look at me sideways. The bus would stop, our hands would brush, but I was the one to pull away this time. Deep down, I knew it confused you. But you confused my heart since day one with your bipolar actions.

The last stop, you got up from your seat and waited for me to do the same; but I wasn't following you this time.

I just wanted to go home .

My footsteps would become faster and more rational, your scent would never leave me. Neither did your shadow! I stop in front of my house, turning to the wild cat who awaited my silence.

I calmly hear you , swinging my backpack on my shoulder before letting our eyes melt like the vivid sun that was heating up the cold places and homes from the rough weather.

You were the one now waiting for a simple gesture and just as fast_The tables had turned!

I wasn't them.

I would have let you in with open arms , but you left me with no choice.