I can’t stand the sickly sweet, falsetto love songs on the radio anymore.
Because ghost of your lips on mine lingers,
Because I’ve kissed you a thousand times in my dreams
And I’ve woken up alone, longing for you to be by my side, a thousand times more.
I reach for you, my light at the end of the dock.
Like the flash of a Polaroid camera when dusk is falling
Recounting and decoding moments that we’ve lived, a mindless brush of your hand against mine that meant nothing to you searing itself into my skin and memory.
Perhaps it would’ve been easier if I’d known from the start that you’d never be mine.