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.