Oh I could listen to you for hours,
Let you lead me through story after story.
I can hear your pain.
See the scenes you paint.
Even feel the love you claim.

Its around this time,
That I stay up and just stare at the prickly ceiling,
just laying in bed with a cold empty feeling.
Even though I have three layer of sheets on top of me.

For an hour on my drive to school at night,
When the music and headlights come on,
For that hour I'm a rock star.
If you stop and stare even better,
and I'd congratulate you because you are my audience.

There are days I wake up empty and alone,
and I notice the half page written note,
left sitting on my bed.

It's not a thank you or a goodbye note,

I'm sorry you have to go through this alone,

I only have words to try to bring you home.

I've never lost anyone that close to me.

I want something more than ordinary.
I want something more than good enough.
I am far more than unfamiliar, something so unusual.
Part of me filled in realism and the other with vicious hope.

There's one thing
I have to tell you.

I can't stop uttering,
anything about you.

It was like a voice
It told me to wake up,
Get up and get away from the ground.
This is not the place.
This is not the way.

It's the way she smiles,
that look she has when shes angry,
the way the wind plays with her hair,
the mannerisms of her hands,
the soft spoken way she sings.