“Lie to me lie with me, get your fucking fix. Now all my thoughts and all my drinks all fucking mixed.”
My feelings for you feel like sin. The worst possible person to fall for. Best friends with the one I put my head down to at night.
I remember the night I met him. I went to find you. You ignored me as you usually did. You didn’t look over at me looking for you. His gaze burned a hole in my arms and my neck. Although I sat in flames, I kept my gaze on you—glazed and malaise.
Months turned us in to strangers and he and I in to lovers.
Only then did you finally look and grab my hand and fuck me up. Give the look that there is a chance. You could finally see me too. You were the one I wanted and then I built a world next to yours just so I could still see in your window. See you be happy. See you with her. How you looked through her too.
Throwing rocks at my window now is mean. I went out to find you again last night. Despite my pillow and where it lies at night and who is next to it. I did you spite you. Despite him.
I danced with them all and saw your gaze. I left with them trailing and you saw. I could feel you finally feel what it feels like to be drugged and drug along the sticky, beer soaked floor.
Why do we do this to people? When you feel for someone you just want them to know what it feels like for you. You don’t have to love me back. It wouldn’t have worked out anyway. But we all want someone to realise I loved you this much. I wanted it this much. And two ships passed in the night. In the dance hall. In the hallway. We kept walking different directions. But we all find each other at the bottom of the sea. Despite our anchors we hold on to as we sail along.
“All alone I watch you watch her. Like she’s the only girl you’ve ever seen. You don’t care you never did. You don’t give a damn about me. Yeah all alone I watch you watch her. How is it you never notice, That you are slowly killing me.”
There is a reason we are all in love with songs like this right now. The Weeknd singing songs about detachment and side pieces. Tove Lo with ways we can fill the holes we create and live with like potholes in our journey. It is human and for those of the underworld. Those who can sit in a great situation and still look for the thrills of life of the dark nights in the dance halls and the skeletons we pile in the closet. When do we slow down and when do we need to leave it all one more time to fill the need of one another? Regret is a fate worse than death.