I thought that I
was what you wanted most.
you moved into my memories,
and that house down by the coast.
you pulled me in your lap
and raised a glass so we could toast,
then tried to find good lighting
for a picture you could post.
I'm afraid that I'll forget your face.
I know you're standing right in front of me,
but there's still too much space.
I pull you in closer,
but you turn away your face,
cause I still haven't noticed
all the dirty games you play.
I feel like I am sinking,
and you'd never give anything.
and now, the whole thing's broken, and the bed is colder without you lying right here next to me.
you're never around anymore.
I only catch your attention when you're drunk
or when you're bored,
and even when you fuck me
on the carpet in your floor,
I'm waiting for the moment when you walk back out the door.
I wish that I could just forget your face.
you're standing right in front of me, but I could use some space,
so I tell you I'm busy now and
that you should go away,
so I don't have to deal
with all the games you like to play.
I feel like I'm floating,
and you're so far behind,
and now my vision's all blurry
from the tears in my eyes.
you finally called it off today.
you said that you'd moved on now,
and that I should stay away,
as if I'd be chasing after you,
begging you to stay.
but I've got better things to do,
I'll let you have your space.
I've got to try to find the reason
that I'm still living in this place.
@
