Proof
I can’t prove it, but it’s a fact
It’s nothing you’ve done,
It’s the way I react when you walk in the room
Everything in me knows
I’m doomed to need you even though you’ll just go
Without a second thought about me
There is no evidence, just this feeling
That I’ve been recognized as one of your own
I think I see you too
But, it’s not enough to render proof
I keep looking for confirmation
Halfheartedly
But, obsessively mining my own memories
For clues
To prove my sanity to myself
We are the most intimate of strangers
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4 comments:
i love this. proof... the intangible butterfly.
did you mean the elusive butterfly?
ah, you say elusive, i say intangible. can we still be friends?
Let's
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Call it off!
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