11:11
I wont wait for another night
where the clock will tick 11:11
when you're already by my side
holding the pieces that were broken
Don't put the pieces back together
when art decides to form on your palms
because everything you touch turns to silver,
As the butterflies in my belly rise to my lungs
But I hope I'll remember you and your lips,
when we, too, end up in pieces.
I will miss the movement of your finger tips
and the way you leave me speechless
because i'll wish on an 11:11 one night
hoping i'll remember the way you looked at me
with those jade eyes that shined so bright
forgetting that this love will never grow weary
(l.b)