i have called many my own and claimed their naive hearts; pilled each one in my backyard. but You are different then the rest. You are my lover. my magical lover with mirrors for eyes and a heart untouched. unlike my own. tattered and indifferent. but notheless Yours. although You may not believe a single word i speak, i know my own truths and am familar with my own darkness. so are You. You know me best. for the short time we were one, You understood. the best You could. You understood. and spoke for me. beautiful lyrics i listened to in the thick woods.
i seem to write the same over again here and find myself searching for You in songs and us in books. i have yet to find anything as precious. we were so precious. now what could we be?
