One loves me, but he doesn’t love me enough.
I’m only a shadow of the one that has his heart.
A shade, a xerox, a bad copy.
He needs space to be himself, to find his soul, his own song.
He wants me to help him …
by letting him go.
He wants to be free to love others
the way I love him.
Two loves me, but he doesn’t love me enough.
He’s finding himself as well.
He’s looking for … well …
I don’t know what he’s looking for.
I’m not even sure that he knows.
But he doesn’t think it’s in me.
So when he sees something he likes,
he closes his eyes.
He throws on a blindfold and leaves
for the leaves of another flower.
Three loves me.
He might love me enough.
He says he loves me enough.
But he has another flower, one that is way better than me.
So I know he will never be mine.
All I have is three.
But I need four. A four that chose me. A four that wants me.
A four that needs me enough to be mine.