Stalker: An Introspective
I went to your house today. You weren’t home. But I let myself in nonetheless, since the empty garage meant you’d be gone all day. And I shouldn’t be here, without permission. I shouldn’t be here.
But would you forgive me love, if i rang not a single doorbell?
Would you forgive me love, if i left muddy imprints all over your lawn?
Would you forgive me love, if i stayed the afternoon?
I walked up the stairs and down the hallway. I turned the door knob to your room. Then i rummaged through your drawers, played your Cds, sprayed your cologne. And I shouldn’t stay long, you might be home soon. I shouldn’t stay long.
But would you forgive me love, if I danced in front of your mirror?
Would you forgive me love, if I laid in your bed?
Would you forgive me love, if I stayed the afternoon?
As I pottered around the rest of the place, I noticed a letter on your desk. It said “Hello love. I love you so love. Meet me at midnight”. And no, it wasn’t my writing. I should go. It wasn’t my writing.
But would you forgive me love, if I cry in your shower?
Would you forgive me love, for the salt on your sheets?
Would you forgive me love, if I cry all afternoon?
