Maybe I'll eat a sandwich
even after I know you've gone to sleep,
and maybe I'll keep buying you presents
everywhere that I ever visit,
maybe I'll pretend you keep giving me shot glasses
from each place that i know you've been,
maybe I'll think of you
each night before I can fall asleep
and maybe even then I'll see you in my dreams.
maybe I'll write stories of you
what we've done and what we could've done,
and maybe I'll write you letters
like I always have but never showed you,
maybe I'll smell you and hear you and taste you
in everything that I do.
maybe I'll find your old grey sweater
and smile at the things you always left behind,
maybe I'll fall asleep with my hand clasped in its other
since yours isn't here anymore,
maybe I'll hear the songs we loved to sing
even if I can't really hear them without you listening too.
maybe I'll taste that *** you always drank,
puckering perfect lips because it tastes
like ***** and good memories,
maybe I'll see 'your city' again
remembering what my first lobster tasted like,
and maybe I'll get a bruise and it will remind me
of how much messy fun I always had being around you.
maybe I'll fall in love again.
and maybe so will you.
maybe I'll be happy again.
and maybe so will you.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 3:04 AM UTC
Maybe I'll eat a sandwich
even after I know you've gone to sleep,
and maybe I'll keep buying you presents
everywhere that I ever visit,
maybe I'll pretend you keep giving me shot glasses
from each place that i know you've been,
maybe I'll think of you
each night before I can fall asleep
and maybe even then I'll see you in my dreams.
maybe I'll write stories of you
what we've done and what we could've done,
and maybe I'll write you letters
like I always have but never showed you,
maybe I'll smell you and hear you and taste you
in everything that I do.
maybe I'll find your old grey sweater
and smile at the things you always left behind,
maybe I'll fall asleep with my hand clasped in its other
since yours isn't here anymore,
maybe I'll hear the songs we loved to sing
even if I can't really hear them without you listening too.
maybe I'll taste that *** you always drank,
puckering perfect lips because it tastes
like ***** and good memories,
maybe I'll see 'your city' again
remembering what my first lobster tasted like,
and maybe I'll get a bruise and it will remind me
of how much messy fun I always had being around you.
maybe I'll fall in love again.
and maybe so will you.
maybe I'll be happy again.
and maybe so will you.
but I don't think
we ever will.
