When you look at me, suddenly it's clear

"Why're you smiling to yourself?"
"I was just thinking about stuff."
"What?"
"You."

-

Yeah sure, I could be his, or his, or even his -

but not you, please not you

the one I've cried over, the one I've dreamt about, screamed about

you'll bring me too much pain. The rest, they'll be fine, but you'll hurt me too much,

you matter too much.