The door was jammed open
With some rusted *****
To prevent us from being locked out
And into the night.
The chill of the night
And the strength of the nicotine
Had us feeling just like
The floating candles inside.
It's scary.
It's scary to think
That maybe we are in love.
That maybe this is all real.
That maybe we have the greatest
That anyone will ever have.
Especially when we think
That we really are nothing,
Just two young kids,
Holding each other through the night,
Thinking we are something,
Yet fully aware
That we, just like the rest,
Will soon fade to dust in the wind,
Our short vapor
Just air,
Fading out into oblivion,
Just as everyone else.