"She's in love, and the world gets blurry
She makes mistakes, and she's in no hurry to grow up
'Cause grownups, they don't understand her
Well it's a big, big world out there, but she's not scared...
She finds hope in the strangest places
She reads her books, and she knows the faces
Of everyone that ever said she's alone
She knows every word to the saddest songs
And she sings along, though her friends all tell her
That she can't sing...
She's eighteen, much too young
To know what a kiss like that would mean
But her lips, they were no stranger to the touch
And she likes it way too much."
--Mayday Parade, So Far Away

Friday, May 9, 2008

Illogical Rationality

Saltwater's never been my favorite flavor
I don't often dig up trenches where I shouldn't
Rivers form all by themselves for me

I don't
I can't really want to change this
I'm hanging on to the edge of a breath
Because it's all that's worth grasping
This is no dream for me
This is real, and it's not going anywhere

I run, run far from the source
Try to keep my composure
If nothing, it's what I'm known for
Holding up when all else falls
When all walls crumble

At least I'm better than their concrete barriers
I don't require any effort
And I'm not going to make any demands
I hide behind my own intentions
My own flaws are my protection
So nobody expects anything better anyway

I'm consistent, though
Perhaps that will eventually count for something.
Constancy...
I achieved it when my world could not.

No comments: