moon

two cloths; one heart

born vibrant

bleached with age

amassing more and more

coffee stains

their threads ever strong

yet mine start to fray

they sew; i paint

threads snap; dyes blend

too little too late

too late to mend

i love being loved; i'd love to love too

just as roses are red and violets blue

but deep down you know that part just isn't true

and "i love you" to me's not "i love you" to you

listen, that isn't to say

"i don't care for your thoughts"

"i don't care for your day"

i love you, yet not. not in the right way

and don't get me wrong, i care for you still

but our love's not the same, so what can i do?

i'm surely a conman, poor victim of mine

but a sorry's so hollow, so i sit here and whine

"i love you" i scream, with all of my heart

i think i'm a liar; i know i am not

greed is a sin- this must be divine

is my love to be punished? are my feelings some crime?

i love being loved; i'd love to love too

spoke honeyed words

sweet falsehoods for you

and, i suppose, if i'm honest

i prayed for the day

i'd say "i love you too", but in the right way