What do I know? (poetry)

When I get really lonely, and the tears cloud my view, I fly away on the wings of a fantasy love. I am not sure I believe myself when I say I love you, but I am trying. What do I know? I cannot leave you, even if you want me to. Unusual feelings can never satisfy me, and this fantasy love is breaking my wings. I am falling once, twice, in love with you, not him.

Fragile minds are standing in line, waiting for something they don’t want.

And when I get really lonely, I wish myself into your arms, not his. But what do I know? I am going down with a sensual moan. Look at me dancing in your shadow, drenched in views and rain. And I never understand these quiet feelings, woven into a warm cloak.

Lovers are throwing pennies into fountains wishing for the things they do not want.

And when I get lonely, I remember making love to you, not him. But what do I know? My pleasure was your torture. And we live on in different moments. The candles in the windows are no guides anymore; they cast nothing into the night.

The brave are fighting battles and winning fights they wish they hadn’t fought.

And when I get lonely, the darkness sings me to sleep. And what do I know? My heart stops beating across the ocean. And I say goodnight to him, not you. I will wait here until you find me.

Lost souls being found by melted hearts that were never looking for the other.

And when I get really lonely, I look into your eyes, not his. And what do I know? I am just a stranger in love, unable to move. And I wish to float on waves until I reach you.

Long gone memories are claiming my mind, unaware that I never wanted to remember them again.

And when I get really lonely and don’t understand time, I swallow my sorrow. And what do I know? My secrets and my pain make me struggle every hour. But your embrace heals some wounds. I am making promises to you, not him.

Ruined dreams. Regrets that we don’t need to mourn.

And when I get lonely, I am not stepping aside to let others sing my songs. But what do I know? What am I doing? I am at the mercy of your words, breathing your melodies to exist. And I am falling, once, twice, all over in love again with you.