why do I feel like I have to prove myself to you?
it was one night, a gorgeous night, where I wasn’t myself.
everyone gave us sneaky glances, whispering behind their hands.
and for once I didn’t care.
you looked at the lanterns with a dreamy eye.
you flicked a cigarette into the lanterns,
then burnt your fingers trying to get it back.

you were everything I wasn’t, it was like a puzzle.
the quiet and the loud. we fit.

i was fine leaving it there, a hidden kiss,
a secret goodbye, an air of mystery around everyone.

the hand that waved from the back of a car.

but you were the one to carry it on.
and then you were the one to say goodbye.
after i’d already fallen, and the secret was a secret no more.
a secret is not a secret when more than two people know it.
i felt like the whole world new it.
and I was sitting on a bubble, of fun and recklessness.
my prerogative.  

but now, months have passed and I hear from you again.
you’ve apologised and I started falling again.
but then before I went in too deep
i saw that opposites don’t actually attract.
they push each other away, make them uncomfortable,
like and oiled surface everything just slides off. glancing off.
falling away.

and even though I can see this, staring me in the face,
flashing a giant red light in my mind,
i cant just say goodbye.
i feel like I have to prove to you.
show you that the reckless girl you met truly was in me.

somewhere.

although now I don’t even believe it myself.