|Photo: Tiago Lima|
Perhaps I just imagine you,
Like I had a dream of who you would be.
Maybe... there's no you.
I probably stole your image
to match up with my ideal "you",
where the "you" I like is not you,
but the "you" who makes me happy.
As opposed to you, my ideal "you"
is probably boring, deprived of will
For I carry "you" everywhere
And I can't keep the real you.
My "you" will stay with me
And you... you're always apart.
So why do I long so much
My perfect "you" to be you?