Doubts.
I wish my heart could burn brighter than my doubts,
And I wish that I could believe those things you said to me,
All the promises of singular devotion and reassurance that it's me, not her, that got to you first;
Your voice was so soft and warm as you gently pushed her from my mind,
The way you broke your sentences with soft lips on cold skin
and how you touched my waist so delicately;
And yet I don't trust your romance and I don't believe in your love story,
The beauty in the way you comfort me is not enough to convince me that it's true;
I guess I'll never be as happy as you try so hard to make me.
And I wish that I could believe those things you said to me,
All the promises of singular devotion and reassurance that it's me, not her, that got to you first;
Your voice was so soft and warm as you gently pushed her from my mind,
The way you broke your sentences with soft lips on cold skin
and how you touched my waist so delicately;
And yet I don't trust your romance and I don't believe in your love story,
The beauty in the way you comfort me is not enough to convince me that it's true;
I guess I'll never be as happy as you try so hard to make me.