What a mess I’ve made.
Young lady full of false fantasies.
The passenger seat warn away with distaste and distant memories.

Let me just cradle your cranium.
Tell you your everything then flock you for cheap.
Tears fall and voices raise, not letting the weeping willow sleep.

I don’t want time alone.
I need to feel your skin stretch on to my bones.
I want to be more about you, but I’m worried your everything will overshadow and I’ll be nothing more than a fool.