Blank pages,
Yet our stories are told.
No picture frames,
Even so you’re the memory I hold,

You shot across the bows,
Come to pass to be intoxicated,
I’m home all alone,
Drunk on your love.

It's been a while,
I've seen that smile.
I see her in your arms,
I'm not asking for a free ride.

*
Maybe I'm just in love with the idea of you.
Walking away was easy,
But my feeling still running approaching you.
Let's wash away this misery.

By:Zoulaikha