And all I see is darkness
It’s meant to be beautiful, isn’t it?
Meant to make you fall in love with the emptiness,
It’s quite lonesome really,
Just sitting on top of something as mediocre as a roof and watching something as extraordinary as the moon,
I bet you never feel lonely,
I bet you never gaze at the stars wishing you could join them,
Never wish you could slowly burn out like the dying stars you see now and then,
Why would you?
You’re perfect, are you not?
Atleast that’s what I hear,
Always having what you want
And having thing’s you’ve never even dreamed off,
You have followers,
Who listen to you’re ever word
That hang on to it as of it’s the single thread holding their world together,
In their eyes, you’re a god.
I do wish you were here with me,
Wish we could watch the stars together,
Feel the cold seep into our bare arms and do nothing,
Maybe even hold hands,
Wouldn’t that be something?
Human contact is very vague to me,
But I assume you’re well experienced judging by the things I hear you do at the back of the bus, or are those just rumours?
I doubt that,
Anyways, back to the stars,
They’re so beautiful tonight,
I ache for you to be here,
Not so we can speak, or even hold hands,
Just so I can feel your presence weighing on mine,
So I can feel you’re being finding comfort next to me,
I ache for you to be here,
So you can look up at the stars, and say I am beautiful, just like they,
I’ve never been called beautiful before, you know?
Never been complimented by anyone outside my family,
And even then, it’s not really about me,
“Oh, what a fine lady she’s grown up to be” I feel as though that’s a compliment to my parent’s rather than to me,
Back to the stars,
If you had happened to call me beautiful any night,
I would lay with you, really lay with you under the stars,
Feeling the cold work it’s way into our veins,
Escaping through the single blanket we managed to pull up there unto my tiny roof,
Feeling your body against mine,
You’re hands laid upon my waist,
And you’re warmth radiating off of mine,
I hope this doesn’t make me one of those girls who wear to much make up and make the backseats of their boyfriends rattle, if you know what I mean?
I’m really not that kind of person, or is it woman, I really don’t see the difference,
I keep straying, I’ll go back to the stars,
I want to hear you admit thing’s you’ve never thought of, let alone spoke off,
I want to know if you’ve ever stayed up past midnight, not drinking or partying, but just being,
If you’ve ever felt like an outcast, or if you’ve ever been an outcast,
If you’ve ever smoked only to regret it after wards,
Or drink and scold yourself for it hours later,
I want to know if you’re honest when you’re sober,
Or if you’re honest when you’re intoxicated,
I want to be the one, from all your friends, to know the real you I see behind the bravado you always seem to be putting up,
Maybe, just maybe,
We could be lonely together.