You’re so beautiful. And you know it, don’t you?
Your capable hands holding my heart in their grip
Squeezing it tight with each glance my way

And maybe I don’t love you as deeply as love means;
Maybe this is nothing but a fading crush
But I wish I saw you more often, saw the glitter of those chocolate eyes
And the feeling of your coat’s leather under my fingers
I wish you came more, because most of all
I just want to be your friend.

Sharing your pain is the cure for a great deal of pain
Scars that turn into melodies; wounds into stories
Gaping holes into beautiful forests, and broken hands
Into hearts that cradle your soul

Sharing your pain and watching others perceive it
Is the balm to a lot of misery, a promise that
No matter what, you’re not alone
And there are people wandering those forests with you
Holding your heart in their careful hands

On a cold November evening, she met herself
Her reflection was shivering; confident,
Her lips cold; her smile warm
On a cold November evening, she saw herself

Her eyes sparkled with humor in time with the gentle dance of the snow,
Each snowflake a waltz reflecting her mood
And she asked herself, how did you get here, me?
How did you escape your cage?

And she answered, oh darling, I never did.
The cage simply outgrew me, and the iron bars scraped my arms
I hurt myself no longer, but I still hurt
And yet it was all worth it, to see that look in your eyes

On a cold November evening, she walked away
Those iron bars so far from her hopeful face -
A cage so big she didn’t understand how she could ever leave
And yet the phantom pain on her arms was a promise
That this wasn’t forever.

I hope you never forget me
Our inside jokes and the memories I see
When I close my eyes, longing
For that heartbreaking belonging

I hope you don’t forget my smile
Or the way I look like while I cry
I hope our memories still haunt you,
Because I miss you every time I lie

Do you ever get that feeling, like you’re nostalgic
For a life that you haven’t lived? Maybe it’s the
Dreamy filter, or the yearning music -
Maybe it’s that space within you that’s a little hollow,
A vacant room in an overflowing house.

Inside you, there are versions wandering the streets
Of a crowded city, where every smell and scent
Is a reminder of a life you lived once upon a time.
There are versions sitting in windy bedrooms,
Talking about life so easily, not knowing it would be
The last time.

There are versions who swim in pools, breathing in
The soapy scent of chlorine. Versions that have
Learned to love, or maybe forgotten how to
Versions that were hurt so badly they decided
It would be easier not to care at all

And there’s the version that
sits in front of the screen
Remembering a past that was a memory long before now.