And I wonder, how many times have you touched her skin pretending it was me?
Your fingers dance across keys of black and ivory, creating a melody only for the broken to hear. You play lullabies, imagining you were sending me off to sleep, and hoping that it was you I still dreamed of. You close your eyes, listening to the tunes you make, wishing I was still in love with the way you played.
But I never did.
I bet it was fun while it lasted. Playing with me like a song. Roaming your hands around my body, oblivious that I knew how you messed up my notes.
Tell me, how am I doing as your worst nightmare?
I hope I haunt you enough that even when you close your eyes to kiss her, it's me you think of.
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