Her words score my palish skin
and I pull back by instinct.
She thinks she has me now, darling.
Right between her fingers,
and below her butter-face.
And, I can't seem to find myself,
in this mess that I've created.
I'm lost in a world I've never known-
burning in orangish red flames,
aching to hold you closely.
Petty tears form in the corners
slowly pouring out of my eyes.
My soul - it churns, awaiting
all that could be, once again.
But, I'm not living in reality.
I know she'll never be me.
But, darling she's awfully close.
She's your all right now -
everything you seem to need.
And, I'm not a thing to you.
Just a past memory awaiting
to become what once was;
A loving heart so needed
by the one that I dearly need.
For, I think I'm dying without you:
Or maybe . . just for you.
