Unflying Paper Planes

Here we are,
20 years later,
digging up what we were
when we were younger.
20 years after
time hit us hard and fast.
Here we are now
talking about the past.
A little less hair
on your forehead,
a little more dark
on my eyelids.
Two old kids
in a bar
unflying paper planes.

Are you still the child I used to know?
The boy I used to spend time with?
Have years changed who we are somehow
on the outside and underneath?
Cause you see,
all we ever wanted
was to be happy,
you and me.
Happy indeed.

And here we are,
10 years later,
exploring what we were
when we were wilder.
10 years after
trouble got on our way.
Here we are now
relieving yesterday
from all the hard feelings
we never cleared,
redefining us
with no anger.
Two old lovers
in a bar
unplaying dead-end games.

Are you still the guy I used to know?
The man I used to be in love with?
Have years changed who we are somehow
on the outside and underneath?
Cause you see,
all we ever wanted
was to be happy,
you and me.
Happy indeed.

And here we are,
2 hours later,
confused about who we were
when we were lonelier.
2 hours after
I ran into you.
Here we are now
looking at something new.
A little less haste
in your words,
a little more blur
in my gaze.
Two old friends
in a bar
undriving the fast lane.

But I’m not the child you used to know
and you’re not the man I fell in love with.
Years have changed who we are somehow
on the outside and underneath.
Cause you see,
we might have misconceived
what it means to be happy:
‘you and me’
was not granted.

You see,
we might have misconceived
what it means to be happy.
‘You and me’
was just a dream.

© Emilie