Dancing somewhere in the shadows, behind whatevers in the way,
Her thoughts spin quietly,
As if shes afraid of knowing what to say,
They jump and fall and press themselves to the tip of her tongue but courage or lack thereof reminds her what must be done.
The words she uses fit perfectly like the notches of a key fit a lock,
Her application is where the art is,
Delivery as gentle soft rock.


I just wanna know,
Everything you wish you had,
Everything I'm not for you,
And everything he is,
Is there something I can do about it?
Or is it just the proof in the pudding that I'm supposed to be alone?

When he strums do you have the urge to tell him,
"You're definitely not allowed to do that"
And when my arms are wrapped around you is it his voice bouncing around in your head that drowns me out?
Lately I don't know which parts of me you'd keep if I fell apart,
Or which you would trash because you have no use for them.


She always tells me 95 percent,
And vague as they can be listening to her speak her words is always time well spent.