You are my misery. A love that comes around knocking.
Of course I just have to open the door.
And your standing there in your jeans. Hand picked by me. I knew they would hugg you.
"One second," I say, "come on in, ill be right back"
But, I never return.
Not for you. Not for me to hear you say you love me,
not for us.
You end up letting yourself out.
And I don't hear the door close behind you,
because in my heart now you make no sounds.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
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