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Looking back I saw you.
Or, was I looking forward?
Your hand was on my back, leading me.
Or, were you pushing me out of the way?
We should have had that night.
I've dreamed it, ten million times.
I tried.
It fell apart. We fell apart.
Or, we were never that together.
Fantasy is sometimes better staying what it is.
How is it I still think of you?
Feel you? Want you?
You are like a poison I can't scrape out of my veins
filling me, taking me over.
Reflecting back to me ideas of what could of what could be...
ideas of you and me.
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