What greater pain is there than to yearn for the arms that never held you?
To long for the touch of hands which never held mine.
Uncertain voices over faulty lines speak words never so true.
Promises of "us", and "our" in the dead of night.

Words were all we had, yet there came a day when words were no longer enough.
When words began to hurt,
Slicing deeper than sharpest blade.
"Us", and "Our" bitterly turn to
"Me", "You", no and. No us.

Now promises echo in the stars,
Taunting me,
Like a bright sun in a bleak winter.
Words fade and crackle away,
Teaching a lesson that will never stick.
After all, it is better to yearn than to learn that love isn't meant for those who need it, but for those who want it.