Your words of endearment
make me feel as if i've done all these things
that make me happy
and us something special but...
it's only my imagination,
haven't actually held your hand or
graced your presence with a kiss
or warmed your heart with my infections hugs
my hand is still waiting
your lips are crestfallen and quivering
your heart is offbeat and body cooling
and our eyes are locked but we're good as blind
till the next day when
any stress, sadness and anger builds up
only to be knocked out
gasping for air, grasping for a life again
i'll compromise, deal and
except that we can never be
what i really want cuz i can't tell if
this is the beginning of our ending or the ending of our beginning
my story to tell
my secrets to share
between us is a whole world
but that won't stop me from utter happiness.
