I wish every day was a Friday,
that seven-day repetition that
        I no your walking through
my door, no looking back...

Were here all night a 2.5 fraction
of a week where theres just me
             and you, just us....

Runing a 4.5 day missing you
    to a weekend of just us
through the minutes to hours
            to the where did this
                                    weekend go.

The alram sounds, then the race
             to the end of the weekned
starts,finishing as we count mistakes
     of days that we catch on to a friday.

Your here now, were sorry I missed you,
              but the weekend is ours..
  no leaving, were just us, me and you.

            I've missed more than just your body,
           missing your breath on me,
                but now were here in this moment,

long live every weekend when your next to me.

Yet another distraction;  a nearly fatal attraction.
Getting lost in one another's space-time contraptions.
How could we do this to eachother, and  be so careless with our actions?
I can't take the blame this time, though I was wrong in my reaction.
You can rub it in my face, for your very own satisfaction.
But I will always know the truth;  I can see the equal fractions.

if I could capture every smile--
every wayward expression--
these lines would never end

for,
in a fraction of a second,
you have won my heart a thousand times over.

A number cannot describe
what it felt
to die

A portion was taken
and you
weren't even shaken

My body is but a number to you
but I
refuse

You now hold a piece of my heart
all because
I wasn't smart

A fraction is all I have to hold,
and honestly?

it's getting quite old