I make you my number one,
but I know I'm just your last resort,
when she's not around,
and you need some comfort...

I get it, you got back your Queen,
and you said to me, 'this is just a fling...,'
that, I'll take, being your Concubine,
'cause I'm okay, if you're the King...

There, gold leaves and crimson heart,
when you're together and you're not apart,...
And there I am, a prisoner in my own empty hearth,
clinging to my cold cup of tea, losing its warmth...

You said, 'please take care of me,
for at times I'm lonely...'
I said okay 'cause I fell for you,
'cause for me you're always too good to be true...
But deep down I ponder, who's going to take care of my heart,
by your spring... when you break it apart...?

whenever i picture us together
i see us laying side-by side
holding hands
talking about dreams
and fears
talking about everything
and nothing at all
and i kiss the back of your hand
still in mine
and it’s dark
and i say your name
and we’re tired
and i think i’m falling in love
i tell you so

It was a clear, cool summer night
As i approached you, my heart felt a warm familiar feeling of home
You held my hand
We walked
We talked
For a minute, we forgot our past
This was it
The moment we had been aiming for
We gently started colliding
The universe was the witness of our unspoken love
That Friday night of July

i like your smile.
actually,
i like pretty much
everything
about you.

i want to kiss
your freckles
and dimples
and run my fingers through your hair.

it's easy with you.
it's like breathing.

We first sexed in a tumbling, fumbling manner;
The time had come, it seemed to us,
To consummate our ****** lust.

The Valley was shakin' to The Rocks,
A popular Irish band;
We'd had our fill,
I sparked the engine,
And parked my bike on Techumseh Hill.

The summit was dew damp;
We spread wide our pants,
Not knowing who should go for whom,
So we relented to the crescent moon;
I acquiesced to the shooting stars
When my eyes

Diverse moons have filled my nights,
Long since the grassy knoll,

“You are just a girl.
How can you think this is love?”

“He is just a boy.
How can he know how to love you?”

“You are so young.
What makes you certain this is romance?”

Nothing.
Nothing makes me
think or
know or
certain
of anything.

Because
I am just a girl
and he is just a boy
and we are just kids,
lost together.

I was happy then.
So happy.
But then again I didn’t know you that well.
This the kinda love that brings pain.
The kinda love that has tests.
Young love, the harshest love.
Yet the sweetest love.