[Untitled, you should name it], October 2007

Who knows the way to the heart?
Who knows the way it starts?

I didn’t plan it when we met
Two silent strangers only friends of friends
And, since, I’ve tried to forget
How innocent means can lead to unhappy ends

I handed you my heart
Like I hand the pepper and salt across the table
You swore that you’d be mine
As long as you were able

You looked into my eyes the way the sunlight falls on flowering trees
And the way you’d touch my hand, as if you’d always understand my every need
And the way you’d smile to see me near
And the way you’d boast about everything I was, to anyone who’d hear

I handed you my heart
Like I hand the pepper and salt across the table
You swore that you’d be mine
As long as you were able

You look through me as though I am the ghost of true love past
I never know what to think—we were both so sure that it could last
But when the world falls apart and the children cry and the fabric comes undone
And everything’s outta place and there’s just not enough space, there’s only one thing to be done

Steal my heart back from your hands
Like you stole my kisses at midnight
Burn your promises to ash
Like I sometimes burn the dinner, except on purpose

Who knows the way to the heart?
Who knows the way it starts?