pony-tailed playmate
head tucked in her shirt
gazing steadily down
at her toes in the dirt

chaos tiptoes around her
naive oblivion
journeys in far away lands
just west of the meridian

watercolor fairy tales
bleeding outside the lines
unaware of the danger
unaware of the signs

let me sit with you, darling
in the dampened flower beds
and paint a new world
for us in our heads

If you could see what's on the other side of the mental mountain your climbing, would you make it over? Even if it's heartbreak, or the lottery, if you had the option to see what lyes before you, would you look? Or would you let the anticipation of "what if" drag you to the other side? Or would you terry along the mountain, knowing not what lyes before you, dreading what's to come, or having the knowledge of what's on the other side?

You tell me pretty lies,
You protect me from the truth.
You look into my eyes,
And tell me not to fall for you.

You tell me about your crush,
And I dream that I was her.
You tell me not to rush,
But I don't wanna see you with her.