| [ |
mood |
| |
anxious |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
You Know How I Do, Taking Back Sunday |
] |
The Lost Boy
It started with a glance, across the street where you stood,
Thinking “please take me home.”
I guess you looked promising.
Wide eyes,
Run down expression,
A smile that barely let out “I know; I’ll never know you.”
But I wanted to know you.
We got back and you confessed,
You were afraid of everything.
But something in the way you moved pushed me to think otherwise.
Even when you cried to me about things I’d never felt,
I didn’t look at you and see any dismissed courage.
Time passed,
You stayed with me and told me stories,
Of life on the road,
Girls you’d loved,
Girl’s who’d loved you.
“Things just never work out,” you’d say.
Even then, you weren’t a coward.
You were only the lost boy, on the corner.
Still, after all the moments we’d shared.
You stood out on Main when the street lights came on,
Looking for something you didn’t have to waste your time with.
Maybe she’s not so far away.
Maybe she’s been here all along.
Maybe she’s wrapped in your elastic embrace.
She wrote your name,
Next to hers,
On the mirror in the girl’s bathroom,
In black Sharpie,
With hearts.
You aren’t home yet, but hey, you’re on the way.
Waste some time with me.
I hate long rides,
And one sided love.
Don’t use up your last chance to lay on the floor,
That doesn’t seem so cold anymore,
While we stop packing boxes,
I’ll tell you I love you for hours,
Wiping the shame off of your face,
Licking finger after finger,
Pressing kiss after kiss.
See now?
This is the house I built for you,
With everything in me,
With every word I couldn’t just prove.
You ready to open the door?
I’ll meet you upstairs.
You know, you really clean up nicely.
I swear to God, I can't think of anything to write about. This is an old one... I'm like losing my fuckin mind here:\
|