You stole him from me.
He was mine
And you reached out and took him.
Like he was the last cookie on a plate.
That was my last cookie.
It was in my hand
And you still took it.
You didn’t even want it
You didn’t want him
You just used and abused him.
And then I had to patch him up
As if he were mine again.
But he wasn’t.
Was he?

Because you stole him from me
I thought he was mine
I spoke to him, as I was intoxicated.
Drunk in love.
Watching as his hair fell onto his face
The way he spoke.
And smiled that smile
The way he held his hands
In front of his chest when he spoke

But I don’t get to enjoy this anymore
Because they aren’t my hands anymore
Not my hair, not my smile
They’re yours!
Because you stole him from me.