I was never good at writing love songs.
Always caught in blacks and blues
But ordinary day, unextraordinary place
And I stumbled into you;
Suddenly
Melodies bloomed
Evergreen and sharing keys, the things you do;
The tiny yet significant details of you;
Rainy days and summer haze, I think of you
Lyrics are simple when you’re my muse.
But But But But But But But But But
Who am I to decide if this is real? What If loving you is just another set of unthought undigested ununderstood senseless feelings that
No longer rhyme
No longer flow
No longer move
No longer love
What if I was writing letters and notes with my eyes closed
With my heart exposed
With filthy prose
While you never know —
I was never good at writing love songs
Forever stuck in blacks and blues
Ordinary girl, unextraordinary world
Always moping, always coping, always hoping, to study the
Details of you