You are the wilting crimson roses on my table,
Rotting, losing their beauty day by day,
As I stare at them with sorrow,
Wishing to preserve what will be lost.
I will always remember that evening,
When you sang those words to me,
‘You’re out of touch, I’m out of time,
But I’m out of my head when you’re not around’.
Softly, the disco lights turning blindingly around us,
You said that you missed this,
And I said that I did too,
But it was a lie.
I could not tell you,
That I could not live without it,
That this second beginning,
Gave me back my vitality.
Careful what you wish for,
As it becomes more painful by the day,
When I realize how little you care,
And how obsessed I’ve become.