Here you go. You want to hear it, don't you?
For all the space in your handphone I
Wasted sending you
Useless messages,
For how I borrowed you too much,
Ranting on about life, apparently too much,
Because I thought I'd finally found someone who'd
Listen, I guess I thought wrong.
And I sit on my bed, and wonder,
Were you ever the guy I
Thought you were?
Probably not.
While I automatically go about my day,
I keep my phone at hand.
I am yearning. yearning for the sound of bells,
The sound that I reserved for your messages.
Bells ringing, angels.
I used to think of you as my
Little devil,
Bad boy as you were.
****, was I right.
It hurts, you know.
How I opened me out,
Lied spread-eagled on the floor.
Dug out all my secrets, my Achilles heel,
me...I trusted you.
But I was Prometheus and you were the eagle,
You dug my insides out.
Ate them.
And for trusting you,
For believing, even once
That you were the one,
I'm sorry.
People change. I really miss him. It hurts when you're thinking abut him, and you know he's not thinking about you. It's frustrating, annoying, makes you feel sweet, and sour, and spicy all at once, but you simply can't help it.