I asked Santa for a balloon,
He gave me a red one, and hey! It can fly too!
I tied it to my wrist, not wanting to let it go,
Day and night we went…
She was who I hoped to be,
Yet all I am is a parody —
The mistaken version of who I was supposed to be.
Isn’t fate cruel?
Even he chose you over me.
I want to be your friend but how could I be?
When this feeling keeps on coming back to me,
Subsiding for a few days and resurfacing…