Not loving fully
Written by Abel Johnson Thundil
You were the clock in the bathroom,
Breathed over by vapour;
You're the water in the toilet hitting my butt
When I take a shit;
Yet tickling me every time.
You used to shy away on seeing me.
But look at you now;
A pistol from Hollywood,
Never running out of bullets.
And yet why don’t you say it?
Why don't you tell me
That you would like to spend more time
Why don’t you tell me
That you like to put your head on my shoulder,
And have me run fingers through your hair?
Why don’t you put down that infinite pistol of yours
And lose yourself in my eyes,
And let me do the same?
Shoot those bullets into my heart.
Let it bleed;
Let it bleed for you
And for me.