It was just a crush; a stupid crush. You,
you heartless boy, were never going to
be what I needed (what I need.) Never.

I needed someone who would love me to the
end of the Earth and back; that was never you.

But that's not your fault, is it?

Boy (you reckless boy), you, with your
Peter Pan grin, weren't made to be my
prince. But now, to me, princes don't exist.

(And how sad is that? Have
I lost all hope of fairy tales?)

/Regrets./

I never made the mistake of thinking that your heart
was ever be mine. (Hope, not delusion.) And I wish I
could have stopped myself from thinking that it ever

could.

If a dream is a wish your heart makes,
then I must wish that we were meant to be.
I'm not cut out for this.

I'm no damsel in distress.

(Oh, but I am.)

I've seen my heart shatter and I'm no
stranger to pain. And I

Don't

Need

You.

(But I want you.) That and these tears
may be my downfall. I shot for the moon.

And I fell.

I think I missed all the stars.

You shining eyes and dimpled grin deluded me into wishing.

So now I'm a dreamer, lost in the lonely constellations
of love and the regrets and I'm drowning in the Milky Way.

Without you.

But, maybe, this is how it was supposed to end.
Perhaps I'd lost this battle long before I began it.
(Maybe my heart was only meant to silently plea.)

Maybe I was born a dreamer, and maybe I was meant to dream.


Cheerful as that was, (and yes, I'm being facetious), I had to get it out there. Writers block--y'all know how it is. But, um, this wasn't too bad. Lemme know, as usual. :) Peace.

--Paris:)