Trying not to fall in love
with you
all over again
is like to trying to creep
from the path
of a speeding bullet train.

It's but a construct
in my head.
I can take
my empty bed,
and my unheld hand,
if it means
I don't have to feel the shame
of loving you to death.

But I'm in no danger
of falling in love again,
dear,
while I hold another boys heart.
There's lots at stake,
decisions to make, so
turn the dial
from engaged to vacant,
and just maybe, I'll
fall into his smile
the way I did in yours.

And your words and wicked ways
can wash over me, dear
but the effect is not the same.
If I can't burn and smoulder
with desire
I realise that, at least
I can't be eaten by the flames
and fire.

So next time you call
for my heart, dear
the flutter of your breath
will not create a stir,
and all you'll hear will be
the faint rattle
of a love that used to whir.

I've been standing in
this ticket line
for far too long,
this grey love
has made me sick
your chance to love this girl has gone.