i hated you, and i loved you. although i didn't know the difference then, and am not sure if i know the difference now. that's why feelings matter so little in this fucked up world, because you're never really sure if they're authentic. it doesn't matter. memories keep our treasure close to us. dreams give us happiness, and lies keep our puppet strings close to the puppeteers of our choice. at that time, i would rather dangle in between the shades and shadows of your ever-changing reflection, where you were far to touch and near to hear, than to be chopped to the floor. "O", how you made things difficult.
listen, people lie. people lie. they lie and they lie and they lie.. to themselves most of all. i should have never doubted your nature or your presentation. remember, things are only so true when your eyes are closed.
love's memory is lovely too, or just the illusion of.. so let's remember. we were younger than we are now. it should have never been what it became. the game of playing grown up spun far far out of control. as attraction grew, so did our determination at hiding it from each other. we tried so hard to keep it light and unimportant. we took more and more from each other, and gave less and less back. when i saw you, i was reminded of the truth. pain reminded me of you too. so it was all good.
closure is a present that was never given to me; but then again, i can't stop the words from coming out the way they do. there's a certain point where i can't talk about it anymore, or else i'll get lost for real. lost in a much different way than i could ever get "lost in your eyes." or lost while i traced your body and lips with my finger tips. this isn't a movie.
Do I want you back?
hell no, i'd rather dream of you instead.
and all that is imprecise in you!!