everyone says that you don't actually need your boyfriend, you just want him.
but i do, i need him.
and tell that to the old woman whose husband just died and she loved her whole life.
and when they pronounce her dead and they say it was 'broken-heart-syndrome' tell her family that the doctors were wrong, that no one can die from an emotionally induced heart break .
i dare you. tell them.
and if you wouldnt tell that old woman, why would you tell me that?
and when i ask you that, don't tell me that its different because its not.
because i love him, just as much as that old woman loved her husband.
and just because she was born in a different time, that their generation was completely different.
and don't tell me that everything will be fine, because it won't.
i won't ever be able to forget him, like i've been able to forget the others from before.
don't tell me it's just a want.

Baby I'm yours and i'll be yours
until the stars fall from the sky,
yours until the rivers all run dry
In other words, until I die

Hues of violet
As the azure meets the reddened sun
Sparse deflated clouds
Floated quiet as into each other, the colours run

Lavender streaks
Trail far into the horizon
Tracking the sunset
As the hour struck seven

Purple gladioluses
Bowed to the evening sea breeze
As if mourning the departure
Of the day's warmth with silent pleas

The orb finally sank
Beyond my sight could reach
Disappeared from here
But rising over someone else's beach

Last dregs of light
Slowly swallowed, giving birth to indigo
This night would last long
Before the first rays of tomorrow...

You see at the end of
The road Dorothy
Got to go home.

"Just tap your shoes,
And say 'There's no
Place like home.'"

Tap one.
There's no place like home.

Tap two.
There's no place like home.

Tap three.
There's no place like home.


And i'm still
*here.