I watch my dearest friend now sleeping on my bed.

She rests softly on the very same pillow I am tormented on.
The pillow that absorbs my fear that I might love her.

poor thing.

There are so many things I long to share with her. It might bring us closer but it wouldn't change the fact.
I am not the one.

"she's dreaming of Valentino's eyes
far away
in someone else's night
isn't wrong, but still it isn't right"

-- TtWS