The little orange numbers on my clock flash 1:00 am.
And I am lying here awake, thinking about you.
About what we used to have.
But that's gone now, ripped from us as if it was nothing.
I never got the chance to tell you how much I loved you,
how I still love you.
Your memory is burned in the back of my mind,
like some one took a hot iron and branded your name into my soul.
I take a deep breath and remember the way you smelt when
you would wrap me in your arms every day.
It was comforting, the way you always told me how special I was.
You acted as if I was the only thing you ever wanted to possess, and
I sure in hell hoped I was.
And now I wish you were here, laying next to me with my head
on your chest, listening to your heart beating.
While you tell me about all your problems and
why you see the world the way you do.
And I smile to my self, because I hear how you get lost in your words
and it is so out of character for you,
but I know that it relaxes you.
Like a million pounds lifting off you chest.
And I'm glad that I'm the one that got to lay there with you,
hearing your story and your words as if they were as symphony
written just for me.
