You walk toward me in the hallway.
A perfect mess of blue
And your eyes catch mine and you smirk at me,
While I stare back at you.
I wonder what you would do to me
If you ever happened to find out
What I've written in my journal
What the entries are about.
Would you shout?
Would you scream?
You wouldn't reciprocate, I'm sure.
That idea is a dream.
I sigh as your feet move forward,
You know, Grimmjow, I lied.
The reason I'm so cold to you
Is so I can hide myself inside.
But I don't expect it
When your hand moves to my chin
Drags me up, you stare at me
And your eyes start boring in.
I'm scared; I try to pull away.
You're seeing into my soul.
But this spirit is an empty one.
You should have seen me as a whole.
You should have seen me with my mask,
Should've seen me without my tears.
You should've seen me without my lies,
Should've seen me without my fears.
And then, softly,
Our lips touch.
It's simple chaste,
A single brush.
Then you pull away,
And your smirk is now a smile.
You leave me standing there, alone,
Thinking of you for a while.
On the last page of my journal,
I wrote the rules for names.
I wrote how they should be written,
So that ours wouldn't be the same.
It is my belief that, Grimmjow,
You should never, never, never
Put our names inside a heart; hearts will break.
Put them in a circle; circles go on forever.