my blue eyed lover,
follows my every move,
every step, every day
we stand at a distance,
pretend we're looking at others,
and i follow him, following me
sometimes he walks past me,
looking me straight in the eye,
scared, i turn my face away
we are not really lovers,
i don't know his name,
and he doesn't know mine
we cannot be lovers,
we have different lives,
his worse than mine
but i dream of a life,
where i could be his,
and he could be mine.
my blue eyed lover,
follows me everywhere,
not in person, in essence
i tell him everything,
of the failures of my past,
of the hopes for my future
he watches me cook,
he talks me through chores,
he reads me rhymes
but we're not really lovers,
he doesn't sleep in my bed,
he doesn't hold me tight
we cannot be lovers,
he lives across town,
and I cannot go that side
but i dream of a life,
where i could be his,
and he could be mine
my blue eyed lover,
today he caught my eye,
and held a stare
he heard my heart contract,
my throat parched dry,
my mind, my body abuzz
he gave me pain,
through a thread tied,
from his heart to mine
we’re not really lovers,
said his eyes, to me,
we never will be
we cannot be lovers,
with this thread, don’t tug at my heart,
i am breaking it today
can I now not dream of a life,
where I could be his,
and he could be mine?
2 comments:
what a lovely love, my chweettaaart. memory lives much longer than the love itself... and we live that lov more through its memory than when it really happened..
beautiful lov song if i can shut myself off that bleeding interlocks.
:) i am glad you like it. it is quickly becoming one of my favourites too! ;0)
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