Love Letters;
Why don't you ever write me love letters?
Or is the only feeling that's capable of invoking thought from you hate? -
Why don't you ever write me hate letters?
Or are the feelings you have for me just superficial? -
Any emotion would be a coveted one if it were from you to me.
Why not leave me anything? A note for me to know that you know that this is real.
Or is it?
But a dream? A whisper away from what you once had to what you wish you had;
Am I that in between step?
Where were you really when you were holding me?
Where were you at really when you swept me off my feet?
Where was your mind at when you were in mine?
Was I expected? Or the ugly unexpected?
Did you want something more? Were you hoping , whilst I was hoping,
but what I was hoping for was you- which I got-
but were you hoping for someone else? Which I'm not.
Am I that surprise that lets you down?
Like, daddy got you a new car, but really it's just a gift card.
And am I that gift card that you're using to buy yourself a new life? A new you?
Did you ever want this at all? Like I wanted this?
Why don't you show me something worthwhile?
Put my tossing and turning psyche to a rest-
Is it just not you? God- you're words can be so --
pseudo urban elegant and raw and real and --
damn I want it to be you. But maybe it's just not you when you're with me.
Is it because you only write out of the darkness?
But it's so much easier to see in the light
and write
Does love not warrant such effort?
Why don't you ever write me love letters?
Meaningful glimpses into your head that I am without.
Why don't you ever write me anything?
Because without pen to the paper, do I even exist?
Mere thoughts floating around in your head to fade.
And when I fade away, is that when I'll get my suicide letter?
Or is the only feeling that's capable of invoking thought from you hate? -
Why don't you ever write me hate letters?
Or are the feelings you have for me just superficial? -
Any emotion would be a coveted one if it were from you to me.
Why not leave me anything? A note for me to know that you know that this is real.
Or is it?
But a dream? A whisper away from what you once had to what you wish you had;
Am I that in between step?
Where were you really when you were holding me?
Where were you at really when you swept me off my feet?
Where was your mind at when you were in mine?
Was I expected? Or the ugly unexpected?
Did you want something more? Were you hoping , whilst I was hoping,
but what I was hoping for was you- which I got-
but were you hoping for someone else? Which I'm not.
Am I that surprise that lets you down?
Like, daddy got you a new car, but really it's just a gift card.
And am I that gift card that you're using to buy yourself a new life? A new you?
Did you ever want this at all? Like I wanted this?
Why don't you show me something worthwhile?
Put my tossing and turning psyche to a rest-
Is it just not you? God- you're words can be so --
pseudo urban elegant and raw and real and --
damn I want it to be you. But maybe it's just not you when you're with me.
Is it because you only write out of the darkness?
But it's so much easier to see in the light
and write
Does love not warrant such effort?
Why don't you ever write me love letters?
Meaningful glimpses into your head that I am without.
Why don't you ever write me anything?
Because without pen to the paper, do I even exist?
Mere thoughts floating around in your head to fade.
And when I fade away, is that when I'll get my suicide letter?