i can see through the window
but you can't see me
under the covers
and out of sight
ill hide in plain daylight
trying to not make a sound
but unsure of what i might overturn
keeping to myself
is the only thing I've learned

she dreams in primarily colors
and listens to the same tune
i do
and i think about her
until i see the way she does  

flushed cheeks, loose sleeves
fourth of july is only for the lonely ones

undercover for the next month-i'm trying to hide
please dont come looking
unless you really promise to be by my side

you know?
that little voice inside your head leading you to believe that her work has depth and his work has insight and their work has character.
but what does your work have? can't its function be bigger than just a comparison to his, hers, theirs work. Is the work an extension of someone else- or is it a creation. A creation that was built from limb and slaved over for months until it was perfect. And perfect could not even describe it perfectly.

If its a comparison it cannot be anything more than a comparison.
Lets not get stuck there anymore.

packing up my stuff, im leaving in days
i know its not goodbye
but its growth
a leap
a feeling
a new place with new experiences
and i could not be feeling better

this is all for a reason

if you listen
and feel the energy
the world gives you signs
and helps you know
you're doing this right

i can do anything
and if i dont quit
then i am about to see
something bigger than before

a whole another level
its not even the same game
and the more i try
the harder it comes
but the more i see it through

the glass is foggy
but getting clearer everyday