Although its tough to admit sometimes,
We're all so heavy,
Filled with remnant memories and sentiment.
Weighed down with emotions and oceans,
Like a lighthouse anchored to its land.
Like a mother to her son.

We're all just scarred animals,
scarred and scared to go into the night alone.
I've been heavy for a for a year or two,
I've been trying to blaze a flare,
be that morning window light for you.

I guess I stopped trying to be anything,
I accepted myself in all my simple complexity.
We all want to be perfect,
but none of us know what the hell we're doing.
And what's wrong with that?
It's all we can do.
Try, experiment, guess and live.