I like to be seen with you.
You make me feel important.
A sense of superficiality.
I'm looked upon with disdain when
I am in your absence.
To put it frankly you complete me.
I'll see you there.
You'll be around.
The place where I first met you.
I'd like to be more than a friend,
but you keep pushing me away.
I try to prove,
in spite of you,
that I am finally right this time.
Obdurate ways would get me there? How?
I know you won't let me.
You know you're a part of me,
kept apart only by instinct.
Feeling incomplete since you left my side.
I try to complete my life.
Your remnants always taunt me.
Get my ass off the couch, believe me I've tried.