it isn’t fair really.
I looked in your eyes and saw a part of myself
and I wanted to say:
‘hey! how did you get that?’
how did you get that
and how can I get it back?
once I saw it, it was over.
I’d spend the rest of my life following you around
waiting to put my pieces back together
and I would say something like:
‘take your time, my love’
as though it wasn’t killing me.
waiting next to you like a fawn,
waiting next to you forever.
patience is a virtue, and I though if I was good
I’d get to put myself back together.