Salsa lessons.

December 9, 2005

Dressed to kill, but you’re the one taking my breath away. And cliche is what I so am. But so is everyone else in one way or another. I’m always attempting to prove that I’ve got something or anything to prove but all I’ve ever proven is that I don’t. Nervous smiles, hopeful eyes, and unimpressive footwork. I haven’t got all the right moves. I might actually possess all the wrong ones. I’m no genius, artist, singer, or savior. I’m just another messed up kid who’ll probably turn out to be at least okay. Thing is… you aren’t just another gorgeous girl.

What did you think of tonight? “It was okay,” she replied. At least.


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