Angel, I feel sad
What a stupid thing to feel
But I do, for you.
The lonesome feeling is mutual.
I've replayed your words in my head probably more than I should
And I want to cry
What a stupid thing to want
But I do, for you.
There’s this indiscreet place within my body
That refuses to acknowledge that what you say you feel is real
Through photographs and words, I let the world know that I love him
Through photograph and words, I try convincing myself that I do
There’s a chance that these same words and photographs taint your heart
A little, just a little, it could be.
I've never acknowledged this thought until now
And the slight realization of it turns my stomach.
You are not a poem.
You are its meaning.
I’ll still be here after the parting
You’re with me until my bones decay.