Distance is the Thief in Which you Conspire

I sent you a letter written in white ink on white paper expressing my disappointment. You read them aloud but still no one gets the allusion. So I'll keep on writing in this white ink subject to the interpretations of the blind eyes That spends my youth in their ageless light I thought it was easy as telling the differences between a pencil and a pen But somewhere along the way the letters fell away making them the same The lacking change has crushed your essence Our engagement always begin with concluding remarks and we depart before the opening statement can even bring its point You’d like to believe you’re the best but it’s just in parallel to what the meaning says I’m just that sad and lonely girl standing on the outside of daydreaming Wishing to make it back in from this exile of your hope. One of these days you’ll face me again. But today I spent it eyes boring into your back Standing on the outside of reality begging to be let in