I wanted more.
I expected less
Nevertheless
That's what I get.

That's what I get for diving into futures
That the present does not progress into.

It is an addiction that I confess
I find myself in quite a mess
I'll take it perhaps, as a test
To decide what next to do is best.

As much as I'd love to be in your caress
As much as I can't help but stare at your dress
I know I must expect much less
Which I fail to explicitly express

Tell me about your other lovers
Recount all the spectres of your romance
I am just one of many others
That you passed by in fleeting glance.

If you had just but given me a chance
If you'd not agreed to hold my hand
If we were living in the same land
If you had seen me in your plans

If I had seen what was to come,
I would have left.

I would have ran.