I don’t think I’m a good influence on you.
I don’t know, I just can’t shake this feeling that
my reckless nature is imprinting on you
and making you do things like walk out in the
rain for hours on end.

And you know, I think maybe you needed some of that?
I think maybe a part of you needed to lighten up like that.
I thought maybe I was good for you like that.
After all, it’s good to be careless sometimes,
good to be free and reckless like me,
good to hold spontaneity alight within you
like a candle in your chest, good even to
walk in the rain alone
without telling anyone.

But not in the dark.
Not for 3 hours. Not
without a raincoat.

Not when you’re sad
and alone
and tired
and your tears mix with the rain
and your brother rides around looking for you for
45 minutes on his bike

and your parents stay by the window
and feel the acid churn in their stomachs
and feel their eyes sting. They don’t
sleep much these days.
Neither do you.

And I know, I know that’s not my fault,
but can’t you see how I’m feeding your desperation?
Don’t you see how ironic it is
that I of all people have been the one
trying to teach you to make your heart a little lighter?

I’m no good for that, I go too far.
My heart is so light it floats away above everyone’s heads
and I go and do things I shouldn’t do
just to try to root it back to me.
I don’t think I’m a good influence on you.