Erica

Erica

The name sounds so innocent
like a flower; pure and sweet.
Who would have thought it camoflauged a whore,
who lived to live and cheat.

She had him in the palm of her hand
he told her she was his girl
but she took his dream, crushed it good
completely fucked his world.

And here I sit on the sidelines
waiting patiently for him,
to realize that to me he may be
the one who makes my heart swim.

Each day when he calls me I help him lick his wounds.
He calls me sweetheart, he calls me baby, he makes my head swoon.
He does not realize that he has changed my world
he causes and absolute rush

for when we kiss, all I do is fall deeper within my crush.
When I am with him, he fills my emptiness completely;
focusing on every contour and curve
like something straight from a dream.

Yet he still does not have the strength
to give his heart to me
so I sit out another round
and try and wait patiently.

All dhe has left me with is his heart covered in rust.
He now has no nerve to have faith,
but more importantly nerve to trust.

So for me, there is no happy ending
I have many a problem to fix;
mend his heart, touch his soul
and prove I am not another bitch.