There was nothing poetic
About the way you couldn't really kiss that well
Or how I didn't know if you liked me, you made it hard to tell
But you probably did that on purpose
You made me feel like I had no purpose
That was easy to tell
And I knew it all too well
There was nothing poetic about the way you held my arms above my head
And straddled me in my own bed
There was nothing poetic about your lack of eye contact
And for that manner, lack of any tact
But there's something poetic about knowing what you were
A blue eyed monster in my bed
Trapped inside my head
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 12:59 AM UTC
There was nothing poetic
About the way you couldn't really kiss that well
Or how I didn't know if you liked me, you made it hard to tell
But you probably did that on purpose
You made me feel like I had no purpose
That was easy to tell
And I knew it all too well
There was nothing poetic about the way you held my arms above my head
And straddled me in my own bed
There was nothing poetic about your lack of eye contact
And for that manner, lack of any tact
But there's something poetic about knowing what you were
A blue eyed monster in my bed
Trapped inside my head
This is bad. I hate him.