You are home
But he is mystery
You are comfort
But he is adventure
You are laughs and smiles
But he is butterflies in my stomach
You are late night conversations
And watching the stars
And playing competitive video games
But he is yelling at the top of my lungs
Blushing for no reason
And stage kisses
You are life,
and friendship,
and coming home to a smile
He is running in the rain
and skating in new york
And swing dancing
But you, you are childhood
You are adulthood
You are everything
At seventeen.

And I?
I am yours.

A gaggle of Mad Scientists
Shrunk me down in size
Placed me in a tiny syringe
Injected me into a woman's mind

They gave me special instructions
While there to  look around
Report back to them immediately
All the mystery's to be found

I entered into this giant room
Dozens of doors surrounding the sides
I believe to be the main control center
I am a man in a woman's mind
(Wait a minute...that doesn't sound right)

I skip the rooms RESENTMENT, JEALOUSY,and GOSSIP
No need to open those
I've seen what they can do to a person
Best to keep them locked and forever closed

I come to the door labeled ***
Being a man I try the **** first
Of course it's locked so I knocked and knocked
Go figure, there was no answer...

Before I realized what I was doing
I opened the door labeled NAGGING
All my ears hear is Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah
What in the world was I even thinking

I may be crazy but I ain't stupid
I also pass by the door I'M UGLY, I'M FAT
Why can't women see what the rest of us see
The inner beauty that they all seem to have

Right next door is the room that holds her feelings
I've never been so scared in my life
I do this in the name of science
And for the better of all mankind

As soon as the door swings open
I immediately break down and cry
I've got all of these mixed emotions
And I don't even really know why

I'm not sure if science was ready for this
As I climb out the ear canal blocked by a phone
Not much that a man can do in there
Best to leave well enough alone

Ah,
What are these thoughts,
These foreign, intrusive spots,
In the cavern of my head?

What is their purpose?

Is it
A disease which i have caught?
If it’s love, I’d rather be shot.
To be unloved is worse than being dead.

Your insecurity:
I’d like to eradicate it,
Free you of it's grasp.

Your doubt:
I’d like to help you with it,
Work through it 'til it's passed.

Your issues,
Your fears,
Your flaws,
Your worries,
Your confusion,
Your anxiety,
Your anger,
Your sadness,
Your blues:
I’ll walk through it all with you.

And if you'd like to,
maybe someday your life,

I'll let you hold my hand.

Love is an odd phenomenon
It was what i used to live for
And now i run from it
But it has me cornered
And i don’t know how to escape.
I’m drowning.

I hate singing.
But I love it.

There are songs that make me feel
like I’m on top of the world
And songs that make me feel
Like I’m sinking back into that old spiral.

Songs that evoke anger and rebellion
Where I’d like to watch the world burn
Songs that make me giggle and dance
Like I’m seven years old and immature

Songs that make me silent and melancholy
Where sleep takes me by defeat too often
Songs that make me daydream
About the wind and the stars and light that softens.

But there is one more song
That i particularly hate.
It's the song of time, truth, and pain.

The steel song of cynical reality
Clanging against the soft copper
Of my hopes, my positivity.

It's the song that feeds into my mentality
Until It is plump with romanticism
And hopeless fantasy.

I love singing.
But i hate it.