I used to be better
At being with those less put together
But as I assemble my own pieces
I've become bad at that, too

A girl wants a fiery temper
Tattoo scars from bad weather
And pieces not assembled
So she's something to do

While a boy wants not to feel bad
Something sad to make glad
As if he has no root in the blame
That any other person’s due

So now I'm trapped somewhere between
What makes up a girls dream
And what I now assume
A woman must want, too





I’m probably still wrong