My stranger's bed
You know what I like, you know how to make me feel good. But do you really? Is it me you know? Or just know what girls want? Do you know I like when you wipe away my tears because it reminds me of when He would do it, and of when things were simpler and happier for me. Or do you just do it so as not to have to see a girl cry. Am I any different than any of the rest? Of course not. I'm not angry I'm not upset. I'm just tired of it. Never has such a meaningless relationship been concealed so intricately by acts of kindness, of words dripped in charm and in lies to make her feel like something more. At the end we are of no loss to you, just as easily dismissed as whichever minor inconvenience. More will come, some will go. But you will always stay the same. So I laugh and I wonder, why it actually bothers you when all I have to say to you is "k"