About needing you

I can't see how I can leave. I do want to edit my life. The room was so dark last night I wouldn't be able to see your eyes if you were here. There was music. The music we made ours. But there was only me. You know. Your voice whispered. Your impressions on my soul. I had you on my mind. I had you. A long time ago. Maybe it was just the image of you that makes me stay. What do I do with our story? What do I do to the story that my mind is writing about us? Is this the final chapter? And then I feel the pressure of your hands on my hips. Gentle. I remember you spending time with me. Spending time on me. Your voice. I try to avoid thinking, it's painful. I miss the things we whispered about. The naps on the coach and the peace, the passion. We're going to get back on track, but that to me is like offering a cage to a free bird. We hope and wait and clash. And keep on searching for something we're not going to find anywhere else. Because we already have. Because we've tasted each other and now nothing tastes as sweet. And hope sometimes isn't enough. I don't pray. I don't have God to rely on. Would he save me? Would he give me patience? Would he know what I need?

And everytime I try to fly I fall
without my wings I feel so small.
And everytime I see you in my dreams
I see your face,
you're hauting me
I guess I need you babe