Steady as the Beating Drum

The one person that truly understands me isn't a friend or a stranger; he is a familiar stranger at best. There is no use trying to just be friends, especially the times when all I can remember is the love we shared. There is no use in trying to be strangers, because the way we see each other tells a different story. Oh no, at best, you can try to simply forget. There are times where you can understand me completely and then there are times where we don't speak and we both know we want to tell each other about our days, but wait, we can't come out and play. It's not about love, its about a bond we created, a friendship that was never meant to die, but the constant whispers in the wind is only hate in disguise. I just want to be there for you at your worst, because you've seen me at mine. Oh, at best, we're on the fence, which is borderlining love and hate, something called familiar strangers, but I think one of us loved too late. My dreams like to put us together. My subconscious likes to pull the stitches off of my old wounds and exposes me to the thoughts of you. It's a darkness that surrounds my nights, the moon can't compare. It's not even a fight. The clock on the wall keeps ticking away my life and I am dwelling on the past, that is not really a suprise.  You linger in my dreams, a memory that won't fade, and we both know one of us strayed. Time will tell and settle our scores. Can't you hear the drums? It's time to end this war.