brûlure

You painted your name on my skin, but burnt it into my heart.

le dixième

Finding perfection, but not being able to have it, is not as bad as you'd think. The fact you found it in the first place seems enough. More than enough. It would be greedy to want, to expect, that you could keep that beauty. It belongs to someone else, yet jealousy is dead; replaced by relief that someone can appreciate it. She must be deserving - have something you don't - that allows her to hold such beauty. It is not yours and most likely never will be, though the chance is ever present. Meeting perfection but not being able to have it is all that you can handle. Because if you obtained such wonder, your life could never be the same.

le neufième

He's only doing it for himself.
She's with the wrong person.
They're going to follow suit.

I'm looking for any way to change.
You're saying it again.
We're doing all that we can...

Nothing.
It's all we are ever able to do.

bonheur

Have you ever felt so happy, you thought you might be sick?

Me neither.

le huitième

The bow in my hair
The black on my eyes
The love in my stare
The hate on the rise

The words that I vowed
The dinner for two
I hope that you're proud
This is all for you

le septième

I miss you, no matter when said, always seems to sound so cliché. But it's easy to see why. It is so easy... Easier than saying "I started missing you before you left." Easier than crying "I can't sleep without thinking of you." Easier than choking "That goodbye was a weapon, and it shattered my heart." Easier than sighing "I can't face life without you." So here's me taking the easy way out, and saying I miss you. And hey,
I do miss you.