You say we have things in common,
That the music I love is music to your ears.
You think that I’m gonna fall for that,
And I will.
Just not yet.
Because last month,
Those same lines were spoken to me by a guy just like you.
A Musician.
And I know I’m one, too
But not like him.
Not like you.
You asked me about him, the guy before.
I said we were friends.
You said you had a girlfriend.
The conversation fell flat.
Two months later, I’m reminded of him by a friend.
The girl with the red hair reminds me of Holding fingertips in the pictures.
Talking on the phone.
Then getting the news that the boy from far away
Was too good to be true.
And then I meet you.
Your eyes fixated on the bend of the neck on the guitar.
I watched you watching him, too.
All these Very complicated feelings,
For a boy from close by.
And a guy far away.