I suppose I’ve been wanting to say that I love you.
I don’t want to say it,
in case I’ve got it wrong,
and it might be just to get
you to say you
love me.
I suppose I’ve been wanting someone to love me.
I had it once,
it was wonderful, natural, pure
but it didn’t last
it grew too small,
and now I’ll never know if it was real.
But you –
I suppose I’ll never know if you love me.
You didn’t then,
I don’t think
you say you feel the same
as two years ago.
Was that love or not?
I suppose I want it to be right.
I want everything now
as it should be
god I want you to love me
as you do
as I think you do
do you? Do you?
I suppose I should stop thinking you love me.
Let you decide
and you’ll let me know
if you want to
but that’s the hardest
thing to accept
that I love you
and I suppose, you might never love me.
You might never love me.
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I've decided I'm not going to have a signature anymore.
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