"Too sweet,"
is what he said.
Little did he know
it had been said to me before.

I don't care if there are skeletons in his closet,
daemons in his past.
I will sit and listen to all his problems,
listen as he talks about "done me wrongs."
I want to make him feel pure again,
whole again.
I want to help him forget
all the girls that have done him wrong.

I have a past too,
sure it may not be very bad,
but I have seen my share of hurt,
heartache,
unjustice.

He won't "corrupt" me,
or pass his bad habits on to me.
I have proven myself before.
I can be paitent,
wait my turn.
Prove myself worthy,
and hopefully he will choose me in return.

Moving on is such a hard thing to do.
Life will go on,
with or without you.
I need to learn how to let go.
I need to learn how to be free.
Tears should no longer sting at the back of my eyes.
You aren't worth it anymore.

I don't know why I try.
I always want what isn't there to be mine.
Always.
I always fall for the ones with a dark past,
brooding eyes,
a mysterious smile,
a quiet confidence.
I always become just a friend.

Why do I do this to myself?
I set myself up to fail.
Maybe I should settle for the boys with no brains,
no culture,
no class.
Maybe I should set aside my values,
my beliefs,
myself.

Maybe I should just stop waiting on you,
compairing other guys to you,
seeing only you.

Maybe I should just let things happen,
hopefully they will,
eventually.

With college comes rebellion,
Or at least that's what I'm told.
New hair, piercings, "self exploration."
"I'll never change,"
I would always adimately insist.

But now things seem so different.
Is this really who I want to be?
The goody-goody everyone trusts?
I want to show I can be something different.
I'm not all cardigans and pearls.
I can have a little danger, a little rebellion.
I have already been tamed,
Conformed in a certain image.
Now it's time to let loose.

"No I'm not the man I used to be lately,
See you met me at an interesting time"

-I don't mind. I like things interesting.

"If my past is any sign of your future,
You should be warned before I let you inside"

-Give me all the warning you want. It won't stop me from wanting to know you more.

"Hold on to whatever you find baby
Hold on to whatever will get you through"

-I think I found it. I think it's you.

"I don't trust myself with loving you."

-I'm scared too.

"Who do you love me or the thought of me? Me or the thought of me?"

-Maybe both. I am scared to admit it to myself.

"I don't trust myself with loving you."

-I don't either, I don't either.

When the world is drenched in grey, that is when I feel the most alive.
Cool drops hitting my skin, it's like each is a bit of knowledge awakening my soul.
All the colors muted, mine seem to shine.
You can't keep a good girl down, or at least that is that the saying is.
Splashing through puddles, water speckles on my glasses.
This is when I truly feel alive.

The dance of you is sure and slow.
You pull me in,
hold me tight.
We sway to our own music,
a melody only our souls can hear.
My head on your chest,
your hands on my hips.
Our rhythm is slow and building,
just like those old swing songs you love so much.
We can dance like this forever,
for the rest of our lives.