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.