I was warm in my illusion
Gentle in my aching
A layer of clay kept the words at bay
A cover of glass across my eyes
Now the wind blows all my warmth away
And my hair leaves stripes of blood on my face
As it whips and tears at the clay-made skin
That I wake up every day
To wash and to put back in place

I didn't know, I wasn't ready
And though it would still be
Many months or years away
I can't put myself on this path
When I know I'm not sure
That I'm walking the whole way there
I'm too young, too cold
Too timid and too bold
Too sick with the need to fly

I can't go with you just yet
I'm not ready to place this bet
I can't settle down when I just came around
And I'm still just trying to be me
I haven't figured it out just yet
And while I'm so glad that we met
Please don't cry because I need to be free
I'm not ready to say "marry me"