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Itapos;s funny how my songs have become yours.�

Frogs remind me of that one rainy day we were walking home towards that overpass from your school to your church.� We were sidestepping dead frogs and I would scream every time a real live one hopped by while you nuzzled my neck and enveloped me in your arms, making us walk awfully awkward and slow, but crazily happy.

Iapos;ve placed you on a pedestal, so high no one compares.� But you are a bust gathering dust on the upper shelf and they say you need to be replaced.� If I�couldnapos;t take you down from the top spot, I should get myself a new one.

Each time this song plays though, I think of you and how I want so badly to kiss you.� Maybe because I want you to know the taste of goodbye.� Or maybe because I want to prove to myself that you are just one of the many frogs I have to kiss before my real prince arrives.� That you are just a frog, my little prince.� I have to consciously convince myself every waking second you are nothing more.

I want to kiss you mostly because I want you.

I�love you.

And a kiss, will make you mine once again, even if only for as long as it lasts.

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