how badly I wish to sit you down,
pour you a glass of whatever
and lecture all the works I’ve written of you
retrace for you all the moments you made me fall
and all the times you let me down
and you’d sit there, sipping
thinking you knew all my emotions
thinking you read into me enough
knowing you still have not the slightest clue of what I think of you
and I’d stand there with the heaviest of hearts
cause after all I’ve taught you
you still don’t know how to love me