It's kind of obvious,
In the way you stare straight ahead
As we tiptoe down the grey halls,
Incandescent lightbulbs putting dull gleams
In our hair.
In the way your feet pause,
Sending me half a step ahead of you,
So I have to stop, and turn,
Pivoting on my bouncy rubber soles.
And I have to look you in your big brown eyes,
So you can meet my curved blue eyes,
Curled into a smile that exudes danger,
Like a red "caution" sign.
Your marching feet commence,
And my mouth continues to utter
Soft, hissing, gentle, sinister,
False words of reassurance
That no, I'm not mad,
But you're a terrible liar.
It's really quite obvious.