Sometimes I see a scrawling, of such unrequited love,
That my heart stops, backs up, and does a little somersault.
Sometimes your words just seem to hit me so hard,
That I hear the 'ding ding' of hitting the jackpot.
Then, every once in a while, you throw me for a loop.
You catch me off gaurd,
And I have to read twice.
Sometimes, I notice too late,
That your words aren't mine this time.
I feel bad for being jealous of a girl no longer here,
I feel bad for not knowing her enough to properly revere,
I feel bad that I feel the need, to top what she had going--
But it can never be topped,
And that's the scariest part of knowing.
Author notes
RIP, LIP. [rest in peace, live in peace]
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