Bubbles of Thoughts

I'm peering through the glass,
Of anger and hate.
What will it be like
To be earlier than late?
Swimming through the cold
Or drifting at this rate,
I don't think I'll ever
Get myself a date.

If the two of us were to
Exist in a fishbowl,
Would we be two separates,
Or would we be one whole?
A place where neither one
Can escape the other
Will we be able to
Survive here together?

Against your fresh new body,
I will slowly scrape.
Getting to know your scales,
Getting to know your shape.
The sides would be slippery,
So neither can escape.
Others will look in then
Stare at us and gape.

These thoughts of mine
I shall send to you,
In the form of bubbles,
Yes, that's what I'll do.
That's what I'll do.