I watch from afar
through a pane of glass
the only thing keeping us apart.
You're combing your hair
It flows with a gentleness,
The calmness of a brooke
I imagine running my fingers through it.
The pleasure of making you happy.
You move, to the bed, laying down.
I wonder what will come next...
If you'll undress for me
Play with yourself for me.
No, you pick up the phone instead.
A casual glance towards me.
I know you know.
Minutes later, HE shows up.
How I loathe him
DESPISE HIM!
Yet, I envy him all the same.
He gets to touch you,
your soft, creamy skin.
You long, flowing black hair.
Why do you let him do that?
I should be the one.
I know I could make you happy.
If only you'd see me.
I wish you could.
I KNOW you can see me.
Because you called the police that are at my door.
They want to take me away from you.
But no one can.
You'll be the last thing I see.
The very last thing.