You, are flowers in my head,
Or maybe you're a stain instead;
But, you'll be there 'til im dead.
I'm, never certain what I'm supposed to do,
But I know I should include you;
You change my colors when I'm blue.

If, a soul had a sense of touch,
I'd run my fingers through yours so much;
And forget about breathing and such.
Staring, with my mind focused on your face,  
My heart's been running circles in place;
My fingers finding lines to trace.

Is this what I know,
Or is it something just for show?
I swear to god,
Or whoever lives up above;
My heart was made for yours when you need love.

Someplace, waits a world I'm required to know,
Out beyond any picture show;
In the midst of an afterglow.
Touch me, and in an instant time will be,
A new reality;
Something I've been expecting to see.

Is this what I think,
Or could I just be out of sync?
Maybe so,
And though the edges may be rough;
My heart was made for yours when you need love.