Sometimes I wish you were a bad person,
As if you'd have hit or yelled,
Or tried to make me feel poorly about myself,
Or do anything wrong at the slightest,
But you never did,
Rather, you had showed me what love is,
Writing notes that I still read some nights,
Holding my hands or kissing my lips,
All the small things you done for me,
Make me miss you more everyday.
But I know if you were a bad person,
It wouldn't hurt so bad anymore.

She was my reason to life,
I was sinking in her every moment,
She was kind of a knife,
That can hurt you in any moment,
Her brown eyes and dark hair,
I fell in love but even didn't notice,
I was waiting for her under stair,
Just to her grandma didn't notice,
We were kissing at her sofa,
And I felt her soft hips and gentle lips,
With the taste of cherry coca,
And all I wanted is holding her tight,
Laying on her chest,
Hugging her waist,
And she was the best,
But I wasted her, I wasted.

I miss her,
I miss her perfectly loose curls,
I miss her gorgeous brown eyes,
I miss falling asleep to the sound of her voice,
I miss when she could make me smile when nobody else could,
I miss holding her sharpie-tattooed,
I miss kissing her soft lips,
I miss feeling the warmth in her hugs,
I miss the way she would look at me,
I miss when she'd tell me how much she loved me,
I miss when we thought we were made for each other.