february fourteenth was coming and I
imagined ways you would try to get me back.
I counted a dozen rose petals and ended
on "he loves me"
oh, how beautiful would it be if a rose could
tell me that you love me?
I laid in bed counting the glow-in-the-dark stars
that we put on my ceiling that one snowy night.
you had told me "whenever the world casts a shadow
or makes your life like a blizzard, and you are for some
reason unable to see the stars that make you smile,
look at your ceiling and know that my love and their
light will shine down on you."
oh, baby, I'm counting them and looking for your love
but the only thing I can feel is your absence.