I cut my hair,
the tips that you liked curlying around your fingers while you sang are now gone.
I painted it with sunshine rays,
To surround me with all the light I've been needing since the last time I got blinded by yours.
And that flock of hair that was shorter from that time I accidentally burned it trying to light you a cigarrette, the one that made me smile with its stubborness to stay still, the one that reminded me of our first night, it has growned.

I hope he knows that holding my hand
is the closest way to the heart on my sleeve.

I hope he kisses my eyes shut
to give me sweet dreams.

I hope he whispers ballads
like soft spring wind.

I hope he knows I won't need a coat
as long as his arms are around me.

I hope he can make me love him,
make it blossom from beneath.

Only my pillow knows of the late nights staring at the ceiling, of the silent tears rolling until tiredness knocks me out.
Of the scenarios I plot that most likely will never happen.
Only my pillow knows because my diary is hidden under it.
Of the dreams where you realize its been long enough and come looking for me.
Only my pillow knows and doesnt get tired of the same subject everynight, only she gets what I feel and stays in silence while I weep.
Only my pillow knows I hit snooze cause I want to keep dreaming of you. Only she knows that every morning you are my first thought.
What my pillow doesnt know but my car stereo does is that everyday I try to find music that doesn't remind me of you, that I fake a smile as long as the day lasts until I get back home to the only one that knows the truth.

When I asked how you've been
I meant to know everything you did while we were apart.
And when I said I was fine
I meant to say I'm not fine at all,
I meant to say I've been missing you quite a lot.
And when I said you looked good
I meant to say you are still as beautiful as I remembered you.
And when I smiled I meant to hug you and never let you go again.
And when you said we should meet sometime
I was thinking "sometime" should last forever.

I'm sorry for not being enough for you.
I'm sorry that giving you all that I had was so little.
I'm sorry for not being what you needed,
for loving you in spite of everyone's opinion.
I'm sorry for believing that we had a chance,
for trying so hard to be the one.
I'm sorry that I can't stay around anymore,
for getting tired of waiting for you,
I'm sorry that I'm giving up.
I'm sorry for crumbling down every night that I don't hear your voice,
for counting the days since I saw you,
for being unable to hide my sadness behind a smile.
I'm sorry for knowing this is the best for me and still wanting to run to you.
I'm so sorry that this is hurting me so much.

I feel a hole inside my chest
cause I can't stop missing you,
because he is not you,
none of them is you.

I'm keeping score of the days without you
and I find myself hiding between books
and music not to call you.

Because I liked how you didn't fight my demons,
instead they learned to get along with yours
and now they are turning against me trying to find something to do.

I stumble with your memory and burst into tears,
and I know I tried
and I gave the best in me,
but I couldn't make you love me enough
so I have to be the one who stops.

He opens my door,
he asks me out,
he calls to say good morning
and calls to say good night.
He is a gentleman,
he is smart,
he is fun,
he brought coffee to my door when I told him I was cold.

What am I so scared of?