Love er?
Here I sit pondering was it love? Was I your lover? I thought that what we had was love, but then you went back to her
I thought it was true, I believed in forever back then, and the word lover to me meant much more than just a friend
It may seem impossible, but I can still feel the heat of your breath against my lips, almost touching mine, but doing the dance of “What if?”
What if I kiss these lips and they completely destroy me? What will there be left? But candidly I had to see
I dove headfirst into those troubled waters without a lifeline, all the while trusting in the strength of your love wrapped up in the words that you used to lie
The meaning of your words to me they were crystal clear, but a lover was hearing them not a girl for whom you didn’t really care
You told me years after we had departed ways, that you weren’t meant to be a lover then, so why did you paint the picture that way?
If my lover isn’t what you wanted to be, then why whisper those words into my ear and against my lips? With all the meaning so subtlety
You are not my love………er and neither am I yours always, but I can remember the tingle of your fingertips on my skin and the decadence obscured in the words that you say.
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