He sings me a sad song
so I don't have to.
The kind to keep me inside
on a rainy day.
One full of crooning lyrics and
broken melodies.
And when winter wraps its
icy tentacles around
every inhabitant of this town,
we hide inside by the fire.
Nothing is warmer than his heart,
but with countless cups of cocoa
spiked with that
'little something extra'
and woven, gauzy fairy tales
told to a captive audience of one,
mine glows just as brightly.
Then winter bleeds into spring;
and crisp spring days into
hot summer bonfire nights,
and I'm dancing in the flames
in the attempt to recapture
the heart that taught me how to
dance to the lyrics of love.
These feelings can't just fall away,
so I wonder out loud what it takes;
what it costs.
And with a Cheshire Cat grin,
he rocks back on his heels and
delivers the answer I know will hurt:
"Baby, stop trying,
cause I just want to watch you
burn."