And I think about you from time to time
What you are possibly wearing and sometimes what's on your mind
And I wonder if your eyes still shine as bright.
It's hard to believe I was ever yours and that I was magically enchanted by you in any way.
You're kind and you're gentle
You're smart and you're subtle
But you're naive and you're selfish and I let it slide past.
If only I knew back then that you'd seem so silly to me now
With your goofy smile and your drunk texts and your late night calls.
It's not that I don't miss you,
Because I do.
I just don't think I need to admit that to myself right now.
So if you're there and you're thinking about my hair or my crooked teeth or my vacant eyes,
Just know I'm thinking about you only sometimes.

I'm falling down, like these leaves
On the ground
Where I belong.

Silence envelopes my mind,
As you look into my eyes
And I feel nothing but ecstacy.
However it's moments like now,
When you don't come around,
And I question myself more than ever.

Do you think about me as the leaves start to fall?
About how I love this season,
And how I love them all.
Do you think about that?

Do you think about how I find all life lovely?
And how I never let him touch me,
Like that?
Like you did.

Do you think about how you let me in?
How someone broke your heart,
And you're too afraid to admit it?
Do you understand I'd never bring myself to do that?

So let this silence rip me apart.
Let it speak the words who may never be said.
Let some sort of fire start.
Let it catch flame violently in your heart.
Let it envelope your mind,
Just as your eyes captured mine.
Do you ever think about that?
Do you ever think about me like that?

We spend our entire lives trying to find ourselves.
We already know ourselves, though.
We live with ourselves each and every day,
So how would we not know our identity?
Our journey in life should not be wasted trying to uncover hidden parts of your mind.
In fact, you should take what you're certain of and enhance it in any way possible.
Find what makes you happy, and become passionate about it.
Find your passions.
I am passionate about my life.
I know who I am.
However,
I have yet to find the one factor that gets me up each morning.
I've decided that if I were to die soon,
I wouldn't want to not know what hit me.
I'd rather die slowly and painfully,
So I can feel my last bit of sensation before all control is lost.
I want to feel each part of my body shutting down, and I want to feel comforted by it.
I want to look up at the light and tell it that I'm ready.
I'd rather that, than feel nothing at all.
Because how can you die with passion if you die afraid?

We are all just boats in this vast sea of confusion
Trying to find a shore but the map won't tell us where to go
And our compasses seemed to have broke
And now we are lost out to sea
Will we ever make it back
Or will we have to become comfortable with uncertainty?

Look into my eyes and tell me it's alright.
Hold me by my heart and tell me I'm alive.
I don't know who you are,
And you don't know me,
But I think about you and that time we saw all there was to see.
I'm sick of the weather and I'm sick of these people.
I'm sick of pretending I don't care when I don't see you.
Take me by the hand and guide me to the light,
Or push me on the bed and say goodnight.

It looks like we must say goodbye to the restless nights and the rebellion I grew so fond of.
I must gain a sense of composure and come to grips with what's ahead, I guess.
It's hard to move on after all that has happened.
It's hard to move on, at all.
So Summer, do you think of me when the nights turn cold and your brain wonders into the dark places of your mind?
Or am I tucked away somewhere far, never to come back around until next year?
Because I think about you all of the time.
About your warm embrace,
Your bright eyes,
And most importantly your smile.
But I smell change in the air, now,
And there's no reversing time.
I can sense you trying to stay.
You even cried today.
But Summer, it's time to move on.
So let's pack up our things,
Say our goodbyes,
And keep our memories on a shelf somewhere.
Let's let them collect dust,
Let our bicycles rust,
And pick up the pieces again
On a cold evening
When I miss your smell
Will you remember me?