A compliment, a kindness, lifting me up
So soft, so sweet, a friend
Or something more?
He loves me.

Is it love after all? 
A compliment, a kindness, but for a price
A moment, or two, an experience
Closeness, love
No
Lust
He loves me not.

The intentions were not so true
A compliment, a kindness, a blindfold
My young heart fell fast, thinking
I am yearned for!
Needed!
He loves me!

And he does!
An item, a compliment, a kindness, for himself
A protest is not spoken, as I am taken under the spell
Daily gifts and happiness, with dessert and cares
Cares, meant only to tighten the grasp
He loves me not.
But does he?

If I tell him, will it be too much?
Our age, our lives, our distance
Yes, he loves me not.

But if I leave him a gift
Something he desires in the pit of his being
I will be all he wants
He loves me.

It is not love, but lust! 
Feelings bound by moments
That I am too young tell apart
It is nothing, pointless, a phase
He loves me not.

Alas! A compliment! 
A kindness!
A sprinkle in the friendship that is so much more
He loves me, he must!

I am a fool, it is my young mind,
He loves me not!

He is lonely, I am one of the few he cares of
He loves me!

Driven by lust! Lies!
Isn't there a difference in my head?
He loves me not!

But he does, he must, he loves me!

He loves me not!
He loves me!
He loves me not!
He - oh

The petals
The voices in my head
The flower
Has gone....
----
I shouldn't tell him. All these feelings I have, they are nothing but my young brain.
I cannot yet differentiate between love and lust, that must be it! My foolishness has
blinded me of the line parting love and lust, and smeared it all over friendship. We
are but friends.
But our moments, are they not special? We used to have them frequently, daily,
strengthening our bond. However, it has seemed as if they are not as much. He has
stopped begging, pleading for my kind innocence to be perverted for his - no - for
our pleasure. He was not the only one receiving such happiness. 
His stopping, is only changes in life. He has less time, less school, more work. We
have stopped talking daily, and every minute it breaks my heart. Will he answer? Is
he home? He does not care enough to check his mail constantly for me, so he must not
love me. It is only lust. 
Lust we share, lust I yearn for more and more, but it is not only lust! I want more
than to feel him in our heat, but to feel him sleeping! I want to enjoy holding him
as we settle, the rise and fall of his chest. I want a romantic moment. 
He just wants me for the pleasure I provide him.
But does he?
I've been told by a friend that we argue like an old married couple, and while he
laughs I actually picture it. Us casually talking and bickering in a home we own
together. I feel it. I want more.
Even if it IS lust, if it IS just my all too young mind, my heart is still a heart,
and it can still be broken. 
It would be satisfying to know. To ask him, straightforward, what he would say if I
told him. How he would react. Would he dismiss it? Not take me seriously? I am, after
all, a just cute young girl to him. But could I be more? Could he think of me as
more? I doubt it...
I should not get my hopes up
But still they have already gone sky high
All I ask
Is for a simple answer
Would he, could he
Does he love me
Does he love me not...