I admit I don’t know who you are
I don’t know how to get to know you, without spilling worthless words, that should have been wholesome melodies
I know I'm a tired soul, and you seem to be so too
Maybe that’s why I felt drawn to you in the first place,
Maybe it was your smile
or just the possibilities that popped up in my head when I thought about you
But in reality, I sit around wondering if you even have a heart which holds love
For the likes of me
Whether I even have it in my heart to love at all
Perhaps my soulmate is the sun when I'm the moon
Whenever you look up and shine your light on the world
I shy away from the possibility to shine at the same time
I could keep slow dancing with you
In an impossible pattern, which only allows me to get close in intervals
Maybe that is the process of getting to know someone
When you can’t figure out what to ask
When you aren’t sure whether you’re more afraid of the questions
Or the answers

When the world said I’d made a choice, I agreed
Because you are the one, I’ll always choose
A place the roses are white, and doves red
No matter in which parallel universe, you’re the one I’ll kiss
Though if I could move away, I’d look beyond the furthest star
As in this place, you’re the one I’ll always lose
Outside tonight the doves are white, and roses red
In this parallel we’re the shooting star, that’ll forever miss

Dear best friend,
I cannot write you a letter as the thought of my words being printed and sent forever terrifies me more
Then the thought of them later being lost amongst your everyday
But my mouth can’t form the words
So, my fingers will have to write something similar, to lift my heart
Not that any of this will ever matter
Because you aren’t my best friend
But all other descriptions don’t fit you
Not the way some had potential to
Your official tag taped to your chest will always be ‘best friend’
The tunes played by the piano at my funeral will prove as much
But not the words in my grave
Down there they will be spoken in their true form
But life isn’t rooftops, drunken kisses, and back-breaking dances
It is diapers, making time, and holding back
It’s listening to songs, realizing you’re as far away from their meaning as you are from the person who wrote the tones
You tell me you love me, but not in the way I think, even though I keep thinking it is
That the one behind it all is you
While I was walking on bleeding glass on the brink of shattering
You danced your way, on the carpet of your lover; soft and safe away from getting hurt by the same thing that hurt me
And the real question is, can it be a crime if it is committed in the dark?
Is it one when the criminal never gets to see the crime scene and the glass?
I was Cinderella’s sisters, trying to adapt to the fantasy by cutting pieces of myself
While you wore the shoe perfectly, getting it handed to you by your Charming
But I am not hurt
I can listen to the songs we danced to and not cry
Because you are my best friend