when the lights go out
all i think of is you
all i can think of is you

and i still blister
like you loved me yesterday.

"I met a boy who spoke like rain against windows."
Every syllable was the pitter patter of water on glass panes.

But the feeling he gave me was hurricanes on concrete.

"I met a boy who spoke like rain against windows."
The fluidity of the liquid would fill the crevices in my mind to the very tip and remind me that I was not alone.

You do not have to read the meniscus to look deeper into my being.

"I met a boy who spoke like rain against windows."
He formed his words and dragged them quietly across pavements, reminiscent of the deep tint of the clouds and the rumbling of thunder.

But when the sun came out,
I did not feel radiant
I felt alone.

Do you ever feel that you don't know what to write?
How can you expect me to articulate everything through words?
How is it all supposed to make sense when I don't even know how to respond?

Do you ever feel that you could be wrong?
How can you know so surely that I'm the one you want to be with?
How is it possible that you could feel this way after a few speckled moments ?

Do you ever feel I'm not worth it?
How can you still want this after everything that's happened?
How is it still that you play endless stings of harmony with me in mind?

Do you ever feel I'm just a muse?