Immature

I realize that how much immature am I,

I know that you can live better without me,

And I thought somehow you will realize,

That I am important,

But silly of me,

Just lying myself.

I never want to be as your admirer,

Loving you for damn long,

And doing things that you dislike,

But,

I still mind of something,

Which you might never tell me before.

Was that because you never want me to be sad?

Or simply thought on something else,

I meant was that time,

Or actually I am not so special person to you?

Perhaps I am nobody to you.

My heart is trusting you,

But your ways of action,

Makes my trust seem unstable,

How much I want to talk to you,

And how much I want to hear you laughing,

And joke around with me,

But all seem just hoping,

Because you will never be the one anymore.

Afraid to make myself too free,

Because I know I still missing you so much,

Forgive me for making your heart break,

Once before,

And perhaps,

We're better to maintain in this way.

-Done-