On some days she dances
and sings
it sounds terrible,
but it looks sweet
and careless.
She holds me and calls me
her sister-figure,
and I just follow her
with my eyes and
hold on to the moment
with every muscle that I own.
Some days her eyes remind me
of the last time I saw him.
They're not hers,
and she does things that nobody
understands
and she scares me.
Some days she breaks down
and lies crying
and screaming
next to our feet.
And she lets us touch her
to pick her up,
and for a moment I see her
as she is.
She is a lot of things.
Just as crazy
as unhappy.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 6:09 AM UTC
On some days she dances
and sings
it sounds terrible,
but it looks sweet
and careless.
She holds me and calls me
her sister-figure,
and I just follow her
with my eyes and
hold on to the moment
with every muscle that I own.
Some days her eyes remind me
of the last time I saw him.
They're not hers,
and she does things that nobody
understands
and she scares me.
Some days she breaks down
and lies crying
and screaming
next to our feet.
And she lets us touch her
to pick her up,
and for a moment I see her
as she is.
She is a lot of things.
Just as crazy
as unhappy.