You say she's your favorite ?
well, of course she is,
because she's a good woman.
but you say it and say it and say it...
but words are words
and actions are actions,
and you haven't been showing it to her lately…
and in the simplest of ways, too.
you fail on asking her how she's doing.
you fail on understanding her and her thoughts.
you fail on being there for her,
on expressing yourself and getting into her feelings.
you fail on making time for her when she needs it most.
I know it's hard for you to see
but this is why she feels so goddamn alone sometimes.
and I know this because she tells me.
because she pours herself
and shares her deepest feelings with me.
we go back and forth with what hurts
and somewhere in-between we understand each other.
unlike you, she fills me and unlike you,
I take her voice and what she feels under consideration.
you empty her, man and she gives me life,
and some way, some how,
the time we spend easing each other's pain makes it all clear.
maybe she's with the wrong person or maybe I'm just another fool who believes in love.
who believes in the chaos of it...
in the birth and death of things.
and this is how it happens, at least, for me.
this is how I fall in love.
I take in what hurts her.
I make sense of it and make it my own.
and the more she spews what haunts her,
the more light I try to shed.
She's a flower
and sometimes I feel like
I'm giving her the oxygen she needs—the water she needs.
maybe we're supposed to be together.
maybe...
this the beginning of something beautiful.
or maybe I'm just too involved to say good-bye.
I don't know but the moment we part ways things begin to hurt.
I think I need her and I'm sorry for telling you this
but I know I'll give her what she deserves.
No comments:
Post a Comment