Coexisting

A walk can mean a lot to someone.

<> Coexisting <>

Oranges and pinks

blend together in the sky.

My laughs and giggles

float with the clouds.

As you joke and jester

piercing through the foggy air.

I catch my breath.

My throat aches dryly

and my stomach twists,

both not used to the feeling

of laughing,

smiling,

belonging.

You won't admit it,

but I think you're not used to someone caring.