I can't seem to gain your attentions. Your life...complicated...seems to be more than I can bear.
And bare is how I see you. Bare is how I need you. I don't mean naked. I means somethings are sacred. What I mean is open. I keep hoping for your sound.
I remember our time together. Your laugh would resonate my state. It would fill my nation with the elation that I felt. Your voice was my choice of accents to the colors I paint my world. And you weren't so much a girl to me, as you were a way my world could be.
Hmm. And the songs. If there's music I can use it in some nostalgic fashion. The tones will make homes in my memory cells. They fill the wells of absence, again, with resonance.
I like to dance in our past conversations. I make revelations out of what was said. And now there's no bed to lie in. And I buy in to this madness because of your distance. I hold on to this insistence that you will be mine.
But time is my enemy. I won't be a better me if I hold on to these songs. These sounds that bring me down. My love for you can't be faded or satiated. But I still live in these orchestrations.
