Sweet child of mine

Pretty train I met a girl on

Do you.. Think I'm strange, or weird
for standing on the train, writing in my notebook?
When I look over my pages to you...
then down again

Do you think I'm drawing a picture of you?
Or do you think I'm a snob?
Enduring the train, from point A to point B.
When everyone is yelling and talking
and balking in-train banter
And I'm deaf to the outside with my earphones on.

I dont know what is worse...

Being in love with someone who passed away, tragically...
Or
Being in love with someone, who doesn't love me anymore...

Insecure

I hope people dont see me as ugly...
Like my handwriting, and my countless crumbled notes...
Or as how I see myself in the mornins...