I want to be the girl who changes her mind like a switch flipped.
I cut my bangs for the satisfactory visual of hair in the sink.
I watch you scribble with crayons on a sketchbook and I want for us to extend it to the walls.
I want to buy eight gallons of paint, and I want to dip my hands in each one, then shake yours and dance in circles.
I want to be the girl who is wild like LA weather.
I woke up and walked from my bed to the rain-soaked streets for my morning shower.
I grabbed your hand and dragged you with me, but you clutched at your dry hair and reached for a jacket and boots.
I am fire, and you are rain.
For all my wild, you are reserved.
I am fire, but sometimes I am afraid of burning.
When I am fragile like paper, you dampen the flames and keep me from turning to ash.
I want to be the girl who doesn't need anyone.
I stick pins to my backpack and lace up my boots, dance on sidewalks and roll down hills.
I want to be the girl who doesn't care.
The more people I talk to, the more I realize that caring is a thing that perhaps can't be helped.
I plug myself in to the music on my laptop, and close my eyes so I can listen better.
I want to write poems upside-down in ink the color of your eyes.
I like who I am when I'm with you.
I want to be the girl who someone like you loves.