Day one, Hour three I don’t know you You don’t know me But I already have a question.
It went downhill from there Questions coming as fast as the seconds passed leading up to my parents Departure. You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when you said I could count on you And then you let me follow you home Like the lost puppy I was. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into When I said Let’s be friends. Because now all I want to do is trust you When all my head says is keep it to myself, Baby, I came here with more than just clothes in my baggage. But I can’t keep myself from saying too much And I can’t keep you from saying too little And I can’t keep myself from wanting to save you. When I need to save myself. Because I can’t do this Again.
I’m supposed to forget my past But her words were dragons that continue to rear their heads At inopportune moments. For every question I ask you, I ask myself fifteen more And the answers? Well they’re with the slippers I forgot to pack. I’m in love with a bunch of letters. Little pieces of paper that make me nauseous just to look at. Words that used to mean the world are now just contradictions.
So please don’t ever write me a letter Because I’ll take that to mean you’re leaving me too. I know her actions don’t have anything to do with you But my past isn’t gone It’s just been put on a shelf Somewhere else. And I’m trying so hard to forget where.
You deserve more than this. You deserve more than the cheesy clichés and the useless words. You deserve more than the part of my past I won’t tell you And the rubble that I’m left with. And for you I want to be more.
I’ve given you my heart on paper multiple times before I want you to know That for you, there is no door. Forget my shoulder, Let my lend you my spine. And please if you ever need it, Let our fingers intertwine.
Friend, I want to be your windowsill. I want you to know I’ll always be there, For you to put your crap on. I want you to know you can open up my head and look inside and rummage around for a while If for some bizarre reason you would ever want to that. I don’t know why you would ever want to do that… But anyway. I want to be the notebook that you can write your secrets in And know no one will ever find them. I want to be the magic eight ball that you turn to for help And that has the courage to tell you what you don’t want to hear Because I know you need to hear it. I want to be that sticker you put on your wall. You don’t always look at it, But you know it’s always there. Most importantly though, I want you to think of me as a bottle of glue. It doesn’t matter what you throw at me, I’ll always stick with you.