I don't really miss you
And the times that I kissed you
Or how good it felt to have you in my arms

If you don't believe me
You can come over and see me
I don't see how that could do any harm

Would you mind wearing that red dress
The one that I like best
Give me a call, I'm here all the time

I could make dinner if you like
And we could discuss it all night
Then you will clearly see that I'm not lying

When I say I don't miss you
And the times that I kissed you
Or how good it felt to have you in my arms

And if you still don't believe me
I'll let you kiss me then you'll see
After all what could be the harm

Here it comes again,
that feeling known so well,
when your heart hurts
and things start to stretch.

The machine you're trying to type
on is starting to fail,
the words you're trying to speak
are sounding cheap and ill used.

There is something you know,
deep down inside,
some seriously heavy hitting truth
trying to claw it's way out of you,
a drop of strange, a hint of deja vu.

Pulling back from the lies you've told
to yourself, afraid to see what is...
and what ought to have been.

I'm afraid to go through that door,
shedding the faces and skins I've worn
for so long, but I know that I have to
open it and walk through standing tall.

A smudge
appears in the corner
of the eye,
of the view,
of sight.
Wipe away
the tear-less dripping drop.
Amethyst coated
fingers nervously working
to achieve perfection,
hoping that no one payed attention
to the flaw,
the flaw that is one among many,
the flawed that is one among many.

Maybe her make-up is smudged,
maybe she sees herself as one.

I want to be a dimple
in your cheek
So that, I can be with
you when you are sick

I want to be a mole
on your lips
So that, we can smile together

I want to be your soft and
sweet throat
So that, I can shower
with your fresh breath

I want to be your
heartbeat
So that, you can hear my
name every second as a beep

Baby, I want to be your
tear
So that, you cnt be hurted
'cause I will not come
off your eye cover!


----de3pak