racing thoughts, racing thoughts,
all too real you're moving so fast now, I can't hold
your image this image I have of your face by the window me
standing beside you, arm on your shoulder a catalogue of
images, flashing glimpses, then gone again
Constantly questioning whether
I miss someone for them, or I just miss the attention. Do I miss
being with them, or I do I just miss being with someone?
Do I miss the feeling of their lips on mine, or is it just me
wanting affection? Probably the latter.