You come in and sit down,
next to and close to me.
My smile is really a frown,
because things are so confusing.
A week ago our lips did touch,
briefly, but so sweet;
That kiss took me such,
by random but great surprise.
How can words touch someone,
when they aren't even air?
An explanation, I have none.
As for myself, I have more wonder.
But what is this game called?
The one you're playing at.
Is the title so-called:
The game of love perhaps?
I wish to know quite soon,
what is going on.
Right now my feelings are a bit strewed;
It seems yours are as well.
Am I a friend or more than that?
What would you prefer?
Where is your love at?
Should I look elsewhere for liking?
I'll say it right now, I don't want to like you.
These feelings are killers inside.
I need to know if you like me too,
more than the friend you say I am.
