I'd meet him in a world of paper and light and broken things
The first thing I'd notice when he opens his mouth to speak
is that he has a silver tongue
The words that fall off of it
Black, like a night without stars
And his eyes hint of bitterly earned experience
With which he so easily sweeps past the picture I've painted in sunshine
That so easily seems to fool everyone else
He sees the abyss that looms in my heart
And concerned, calls out to me "Are you falling?"
And of course then, I fall, in love
I cling to him like he is my guide in this new shadow land
Like I expect us, together, to go seek out and fight
The dragons, demons, darkness of our minds
But I forget
That I don't know him
I don't know his cracks, his how he came to be
I have fallen for his words, for the precious silver of his tongue
And not the human boy, in all his realness and heat
You would think that after world upon world of broken paper and bent light
I would know by now
But you'd be wrong
Apparently, I am like a child with fire when it comes to the darkness
I am mesmerized

For some reason, I always think that I will be there the day the boy with the silver tongue remembers how to share his story and speak in sunshine and in being there, so save him and myself.