I was not sure why you decided to call
For the last time I talked to you, I told you not to call.
But, I didn’t know why you had called
Or maybe it was my insane imagination that the phone rang.
For it is quite impossible for you to call…
Of course I thought, all by my lonesome he wouldn’t’ have called just to hear my voice
But then he did always ask why he often saw us together in his daydreams, I eighty-two and he eighty-five both in our rocking chairs
Not needing to talk for this silence surrounding us, is no silence it’s just us listening to our lover breathing
He always wondered to himself why he saw me, beautiful…
And why he had never cared until it was to late.
He never got that he’s in love for no one has loved him,
And even I never told him,
Just pretended he was another petulant victim.
Just another boy torn up by my beauty.
Though a doctor might have been diagnosed me in love…
But I see no more love, in this dark hole surrounding what he thought was lust.
For, I believe in something more crucial than love
This feeling doesn’t have a word
If he thought he was feeling love
He was all but wrong
He was feeling much more than love
It is a feeling without a word for no soul could find it
It’s a feeling that you feel. It’s the way you still love me,
Even if I take my shirt off for other men when we’re are not together
For when the men surround me and I brake their hearts
Each and every time I pretend they are you.
For, I want you to feel the pain I felt
When you died.