they say that love never dies
could never curl and bawl and cry
love is the purest of all emotions
even turbulent and torrid
it is pure, never horrid
but I'm tired of loving you
or seeing your jaw, you finger, your tooth
and feeling a rush of fear
that i will never escape from this anxious pit of unclear
good intentions and impure thoughts
so i do what i am taught
i slog through the love, the lust
the misplaced affections because i need, i must
be graced with one smile, a small glimpse
even if my feelings you already dismissed
i was going to tell you, don't you know?
i was going to knock my feelings off their petty throne
i thought that maybe if i let it all out
i would not feel a gout
of excitement for the forbidden feelings
that maybe i could stop pealing
in laughter at the smallest thing
when i thought you weren't looking, as i watched you sing
that i would have the control of my buzzing desire
but now i refuse to fan the fire
my friends still egg me on.
Valentines Day is on Saturday, what could go wrong?
I've found that people are great at giving advice
when it wont affect them even once or twice
but they know that you know off my misplaced affection
you see it now in every inflection
she lied and told you behind my back
and then asked me to cut her some slack
when now that tenuous friendship we once had was broken
and i only ask you to give me a token
of admitting your silence
rings out louder
than any no
... lesson well learned. and i will have to see him again, and again, and again, four hours a day, every day
