The people who see
me for me
don't like it and would rather i be
Someone who is not me
and that i'd prefer to be.

"I love you,"
I say, speaking those inadequate words out loud
only to watch them fall to the ground, useless at expressing how I truly feel about you.
You say you love me back, but I want to say
"No, you don't fully comprehend my meaning."
It's not just love.

It's wriggling up against you to close nonexistent space, forever trying to get closer, wanting to prolong moments into eternity, because being enveloped within your arms makes me feel safer than I ever thought possible.

It's reading a book about losing one's forever love in a car accident and consequently nagging you to start wearing your seatbelt and stop using your phone so much. I hate feeling like the nagging girlfriend, but god, I don't know how I'd go on without you, and no horror novel has ever scared me so much as that book did.

"I love you,"
I say, feeling the letters crumble under the weight I place upon them.

will I still be remembered under the blare of lights that flood the field, a lone silhouette amongst a hundred others. will I still be able to stand out, a dull worn rag chafing against pastel silks. will I be worth something, even if I try my hardest not to trip and fall in this marathon. will I stand tall like a tree in the middle of a wheat field or will I be fragile as the painting of the moon from its rays upon the glassy canvas of a lake.

Is loving someone with every fiber, molecule, atom, proton, and quark of your fragile existence,
With the prospect of still not being enough.

I'm only a man
So why do you think
I'm more than I am?
I don't know

I can't save the day
So why don't you want
Me to go away?
I don't know

I don't know
Why you want me
Or keep me around
I don't know
Why you pick me up
When I fall down

All I know
Is I'll stay here
As long as I can
And I'll love you
But I'm only a man

Holding onto some grey advice my dear
Giving my time away for some golden years
Filling your moments with the smell of a familiar language
and the beaten horse you figured dead
They show up at your house to remind you
there are still some hounds you left unfed

and it fills your mind with all the crimes
that time still hasn't brought
On occasion you search for a way to explain
there's still a way it can be fought

Racing loss is downhill from the only place that
Faded sense can release you
and oh, it's pivoting towards spent energy
and too clear an ending

and it fills your mind with all the crimes
that time still hasn't brought
On occasion you search for a way to explain
there's still a way it can be fought

I'm tired of feeling pulled 
in ten different directions 
by all these expectations 
and never knowing just
who I'm supposed to listen to. 
I want to live for myself
and make my own decisions,
but I've never really risen
to the occasion when it counted. 
What I am good at, though,
is letting myself be controlled
by the wishes of others. 
I guess I'm just inadequate,
my efforts never suffice
when I'm left to my own devices.

You said I broke your heart
     when I decided to leave,
but baby you broke mine
     every single day I stayed.
I couldn't stand by
     watching as you sat there,
     your soul collecting dust.
I'd beg you for more, to BE more,
     but my pleas went unnoticed.
So I cried silently to myself,
     crimson tears
     leaking from my veins.
And now,
     now that I've finally gone,
you've awakened to shudder
     off that layer of dust.
Tell me, baby,
     how could I be the one
     to break your heart
when I was obviously
     so irrelevant
     to your motivations.
Tell me, baby,
     why you didn't notice me
     bleeding, begging
     for your attention.
Tell me, baby,
     why was I not enough?