Your hands in mine, look in my eyes, move the hair out of my face tell me another lie. Say again we will be just fine. Hold my heart, I gave it to you, drop my hand and push me back, turn around and watch it all go away.
All week it builds up inside in me, waiting for the weekend. Counting the hours in every single day until I could be on my way. I hit the road and drive straight to you, fast and in a daze, ready for you to knock me sideways as soon as I see you.
The familiar gravel under my tires reassures me that I am here and as my car hits park I jump out and look for you. Butterflies as the door opens and you walk out, and just like that I am wonderstruck.
And I want it back, I want; cold nights under the covers, you playing your guitar, your silly singing, the way my hands fit in yours, the way you call me babe…
Your hands burned holes into my skin when you touched me and it hurt me when I looked at you and it hurts me more now when I can’t look at you, and maybe we are right, but just not right now.
and I swear I didn’t know. I didn’t know it was to that extent, until I was asked, and before I knew it I was choking on the word as I covered my mouth and ate my words so I didn’t say it out loud.