Pull it from me, the love notes that make my heart sing Light the fire that burns only the way we can understand Make my body weak with desires only you can fulfill Have my hands tremble at just the thought of you against me I want to feel alive with you
I try so hard, To keep myself busy & occupied, So you will be the last thing to think about.
I try so hard, To have as much fun as possible during the day. So you will be the last thing to think about.
I try so hard, To not think of you, But you are everywhere. Everything reminds me of you.
When I see my planner, I remember I meant to ask you when is your birthday. When I see my books, I remember I meant to ask you what is your most precious possession. When I see my pink purse, I remember I was meant to ask you what is your favorite color.
You had no idea, Just how much I hold onto your words. You made me believe, That we have all the time in the world.
None of us try to fix this. Getting back what we once had, No matter how much I want it. Because we both know that, We’re not something worth saving.
No amount of fun I had during the day can stop what I feel when night arrives. Can you believe that I like someone without knowing his birthday and even his favorite colour?
if i died tonight, would you miss me? would you say nice things at the funeral and tell people i had a beautiful soul or would you tell them that my thoughts were troubled and you helped to calm the waters
would you tell them i died too young or would you say that i had plans for living would you say how i always looked on the bright side or would you explain that i had a dark side only you could see
would you recall the memory of the day we met or would you tell them the pieces we shared talk about the first time we kissed or the first time you asked if i was okay
if i died tonight, i'd want you to be honest just don't give all the good parts away
thinking about what people would say about me if I died right now. especially one person, who knows me better than almost anyone. wondering if they would gloss over my rough bits and paint me as a blank angel-fairy child.