I want to love you,
So much that I almost do, but,
I've got a problem,
And it's not me, it's you.
I wanna live inside that beautiful head of yours,
Watch the light shine through
Your eyes as they glitter in the morning sun,
But you only have room for one.
There's boxes of shame and dissapointment,
A table covered in lies,
Thirty four books about boys who said they loved you,
Twelve bottles full of tears you cried,
The smoke is thick and spirals round,
Obscuring a single thought.
Your brain is like a boat, lost forever,
Looking for it's docking port,
I want to love you, but for now, we're done.
Because you only have room for one.
© Saxon Drury-Godden 2005