I didn’t know better, to dare kiss the dream you were, I doubted all that we kept being, I stood short of what I wanted to view. You got along with my desire over the months and months were when I made all I could to not lose a moment but the moments you know, they kept missing the point. It was supposed to become eventually more, all I could crave and all you couldn’t imagine. He was a dreamer, a visionary guiding a blind person that at the same time was too awake, that you were and that’s how he felt. I spotted so much more than I deserved to, and what for? To twinge a lot and to fall in love by far too intensely, with you, that smiled at it, my burden. That’s after all the best way to face it isn’t it? Seriousness that was never it. I got it, too late but still I did.
I chose not to kiss you, or I couldn’t. You just couldn’t show me how and you needed it too, but maybe not from me, and shall I call that “your mistake”? I chose to avoid that question because it shone no needed answers on me, none I looked to find. The only body I longed to regard was yours, always, but you were so rarely there, at sight you were but not in reach, permanently semi closed to me. You, damsel that longed to be admired, me charming, to the fullest extent, or so I saw myself. Unique, unique was the word that would best define me, exquisite and focused on you, day and night, and those nights that met the day that followed, those were my favourite. Long soirs of dark and neon, city we stained with our youth… oh girl, how it’s still my delight to picture this, what we used to see, bygone but never really gone. Yet, you’re gone now and I learned to live with that.
A delight that makes me cry, you became that only, and me the sin that you built, a curse in repeat but it wasn’t me, I was innocent, we were freely in touch. I was to you what you will not be lucky enough to harbour again. And well, through this point of view, may I be the bad one, for you see, I stole from you what you were not, what I chose to find in you, something scarce, unreal. You will come to lack me without having the slightest idea of what is it that itches. You will lack what you can’t remember, I believe that can indeed happen. You chose to not feel and for that you’re just as guilty as I was for choosing to do the opposite. It’s now late for us to choose each other, we don’t need it but think that I didn’t choose this either. I simply said “yes” while you, you chose not to.