You found me in the crowd last Saturday.
I met your eyes and I tried to run-I'm sorry-I really did
but there was no way out.
You gave me a hug
(oh, how I once yearned for your arms around me)
but it felt so tense, so cold.
I didn't want to see you.
You acted like nothing was ever wrong.
Like you hadn't fallen off the face of the Earth.
Like you still loved me,
but you know,
and I know,
it's too late for that now.
I hope you know that I still have your Christmas present.
I bought it when things were still good.
It's too late to give it to you now.
That night,
I was holding a rose from another lover.
I hope you saw that.
I hope you know that he's better than you'll ever be.
He doesn't touch me like you did,
but he listens to me.
He treats me as an equal, not as an object.
You've grown up too much without aquiring respect and knowledge.
I know it's too late for you to learn the lessons he did.
I guess it's time for you to learn.
A bit of a stream of consciousness.