Your eyes still know me, but do your lips?
Do you remember how it felt, to have my hand round your hips?
I know you remember who I was, but do you know how you felt?
Do you remember the way I made your heart melt?
Do your hands remember mine, like mine remember yours?
Do you remember how I laughed, when we were sitting outdoors?

I don't think you do, I think you forgot,
and for that reason alone, I envy you a lot.

I'm so forgetful,
Because I'm busy remembering the important things.
Like the voice of my angel,
Who lost her wings,
or the way she smelled,
or the way she walked,
or the way she hit me,
or the way she talked.

Yet away from me, these things do slip,
the important things, escaped my grip.

Writing has always, been my calling,
and writing is but the act of falling.
Falling in love, or falling apart,
curse my ever, falling heart.

Every villain is a hero, in their own mind.
Every monster, is just normal, to their own kind.
The monster in the dungeon, well they live there.
But when I am who I am, you all stare.
To become a villain, I just did what was best,
then let you all know that, and you did the rest/

Why is it when asked about love, our answers are never sweet?
Never stories of stolen kisses? Or intense and passionate heat?
No, our stories are always sorrowful, stories of such pain.
Complaints of the things we did, and warnings of 'never again'?

Every kiss we shared was so desperate,
‘cause we knew it could be our last
Every moment together,
Well now they’re just in the past.

But with him,
You kiss like you’ve got forever
Spend time like…
It’s ending never

You love him
Like you never even looked at me
and you look at him
Like he’s all you see

Hundreds of days, and countless knives,
I've lived many different lives,
sometimes I want riches, sometimes I want fame,
but in this life, all I want, is someone who feels the same.