His name was John
The boy living next to your door
The boy whom you've shared your toys with before
You were his only companion
For he was shy to show himself to others

You were the only one who knew him
From the rest of the children, Ella and Tim
Every time you tell stories about John
They only shook their heads, for they've never seen one

You wonder why he hides from others
Why he doesn't want to be recognized
For he said maybe you'll be apart
And it would break his heart

In the middle of the cold nights
While everybody soundly slept, you played
At the old fountain, at the park or the stained swing
While telling you many things

Of his Mama and Papa, their great mansion
Their hacienda of a hundred hectares
Of this farmer who took his Mama away
And left his Papa crying in vain

But there was something about John you cannot explain
Why does he have a wounded head and a suit full of blood stains?
He will just nod and wink an eye
Now, I bet you know the reason why.

Some may say I'm lonely - but they don't have a clue.
I have the best friend there could possibly be.
I may not be able to see him, but why should that matter?
I know that I can trust him - he won't tell a soul.
Not like "real people" who lie, cheat and snitch on you.
My friend may be nameless, but he is always here for me.
Not like you.
You come and go as you please; you hurt me and betray me.
You say "I'm just a phone call away."
Yet when I call, you never pick up.
He is always there - just a thought away;
He never lies;
Never cheats;
Never snitches.
Do you honestly blame me for having "trust issues"?
Well, that's your problem.

When I think of you,
I see this imaginary person my mind has created
to make the pain easier to endure,
I see you reading my words
and writing to me,
worried or smiling,
sometimes happy, but most of the time sad.

When I think of you,
I can feel the warmth coming from your soul
even though it is full of cold darkness and full of demons in there,
when I think of you
I imagine your beautiful smile,
your voice whispering healing words,
your eyes looking into my heart,
I can see myself being in your arms and feeling safe.

When I think of you
I imagine someone who would wait for me
in a small, warm-lighted house,
at the end of a hard winter day.

When I think of you,
I see someone who would
Make soup for me when I am down and hungry.

When I think of you, it sometimes hurts
because I will never know if you are real,
I will never have the smile,
I will always have only the words.

When I think of you
I have the feeling of emptiness,
like a cold winter wind blows in my body.
I feel like my stomach clenches up in knots,
and I can't breathe or speak any more.

When I think you, it hurts so much
because I'm always down,
I'm always hungry.