You are a time-bomb.

When I think about your touch, i start to blow.

The kisses, the affection, the presence.

But now all I hear, see, touch, is gone.

But im still thinking. Thinking about the silence, the way you used to be. 

Im a sad collection of maybes and almosts's.

Maybe you will come back. You almost did. Sometimes it feels like you enjoy breaking my heart.

But im still thinking. Thinking of why the one who hurts me the most is the one i cant seem to get out of my head.

Maybe if I change my style he will notice me.

Maybe im just not good enough for him.

Im just another broken heart.

But im thinking, still thinking.

Ticking and ticking, until I explode