Миллионы строк

if you only knew how many songs I hide in a simple “hello.” you would definitely cry, and I don’t hide my emotions in return either how can you still not see the obvious, I am screaming it in your face, holding my heart in my hands I dedicate millions of poems to you. stop stealing my dreams, my tears you think this is friendly, but I think it’s serious what does all of this even mean? you don’t want to hear this, and I dream of touching your gentle skin like rose petals that hurt me every day do you want happiness? I do too. I want you to smile only for me I see no one else, I don’t see life in them. I don’t see a future with them but I try to imagine our impossible happiness rewinding the tape to our beginning, I look back. and I want to return my cassettes are outdated, and the music is not the same I still look for reasons to touch your gentle hand outside it smells like rain, I again pretend I have somewhere to go other than you looking at your hair at night, you seemed more beautiful than usual at night you wait for morning, and I wait for at least a word from you you would probably be scared if you saw how much of you is inside me in every moment, in every song, I see only your eyes I really like insomnia, when I imagine that you are also thinking about me right now I again can’t find any other excuse for myself why did you appear in my dream again I remember you more precisely than my own past and honestly — I am afraid of one day outgrowing you I called it friendship for too long to now say the truth out loud sometimes it feels like I invented you out of loneliness but then you smile and it becomes a problem again probably, this is what growing up is — silently loving someone who will never choose you and it would be better if we had never met. and better if I could accidentally forget you