I hope you're well,
I hope you're warm,
I hope you're safe,
I hope you're happy.

'Cause I'm alright,
But I'm cold,
But I'm scared,
But I'm sad.

There's lots of things
I'm worried about.
I'm scared that you'll change your mind,
I'm scared you'll walk out.

And I wonder,
If you're worried too.
If you are,
Then I wish I could
Show you you're wrong.

There's lots of things
I'm scared about.
I'm worried you'll find something better,
I'm worried you'll walk out.

But I remember
Your arms around me,
And I remember
Everything you've told me.

And I wonder if
You're scared too,
Or if you miss me too.

I hope that you're not,
I hope that you don't.

'Cause missing someone
Is the worst feeling to have,
When they're still a week and three days
From your arms.

when is it crossing the line?
when I am in front of it all
laid out on the table
seeking a potent euphoria
constantly wondering if I have done enough
but it is never fulfilling
on a search for a meaning in this mess
yet never finding one
there's always suspense
wondering if I am secure
the thrill is so intriguing
and too hard to give up

Crawling down the alley-
Scared not to wake the evil,
He set his way home.

Don't date a girl like her.
Because she giggles too much and trusts too fast and it's all because she's been brokenhearted too many times for things that never shoulda or coulda lasted and learned that life is so much better when you laugh things off and have faith in your surroundings-- including the people.
You'll find that she's rainbows, sunshine, and cotton candy. And much like a day at the carnival you might turn some corners to find all sorts of surprises. And some of them will be dark and scary and some will be taste tries of churros and your favorite sweets that you can't find anywhere else in the world.
She's like a carnival because you'll never find her staying in one place too long, but the things you love most about her-- the thrill rides and the people watching and the sponteneity-- it'll always stay the same.
She'll "borrow" your hoodies and your sweats and you'll probably let her keep them because she looks so cute in them while she's all cuddled up next to you. She'll give you massages after a long hard day as long as she can trust that you'll give them back.
She'll sing along to all the songs she doesn't know but be patient and love her shy confidence because she can only sort of carry a tune and she belts it out anyway. If you compliment her laugh and call it cute she'll smile about it for days because she knows it's obnoxious and she's insecure.
And she's insecure about a lot. She's learning. She's learning to love herself and she's trying. But when you compliment her, and when you remind her that she is good enough, it helps her see that she is worthy of trying to fall in love with.
She's trying to fall in love with herself. She's trying to be the kind of person that she even wants to love. And she's not there yet. But maybe you can help her.
Maybe your fearless singing and your confidence and your faith can help her to become herself. Maybe you can bring her our of her shell. Maybe if you let her steal your hoodies and let her tuck her feet under your thighs because she's cold and let her be open about her life..... maybe then, by those small and simple things, you'll become yourselves together.
And on second thought...Maybe... just probably... you should date her.

Security is elusive
Its impossible because in the end we all die
we all get old, all of us
we all get sick and people leave us
people changes us but that's because
nothing in life is secure
maybe except death

There’s something about the way your words just flow when you speak of what you love that gives me a sense of peace. This is the same kind of peace felt when the Florida wind caresses against my skin on a warm afternoon, and sometimes I like to think your touch is just as gentle and welcoming. Sometimes, convincing myself that your touch is as smooth as the words you use to lure me to you drives away the monster inside seeking what to taunt me with next. Lately, it’s been picking at you, but when you smooth out the bumpy road and just drive, my mind is at peace. The peace growing in this careless mind which I used to call home has a name: Travis; my new home.

There’s something about your eyes; profound, delicate, confidential; they describe you. Just by the gaze of your brown/green eyes, your personality is revealed. And it’s that confidentiality in your stare, and the delicacy in your gaze that gives me security.

I can’t wait for the day that it’s no longer the way you observe people, but the way you hold me that gives me that sense of security. Where it’s no longer the way you talk, but that “Florida wind” impression you give off when your breath strokes against my skin that gives me that same sense of peace. When I’m home and I can rest and hear the music of your heartbeat putting me to sleep. I can’t wait for that day, when I can just put those demons to the side and breathe to the rhythm of the music. Because with your peace and security orbiting my mind, I can finally rest again.

My love for you was holy
and like a new dawn pure.
Like a green leaf on the vine,
promising to grow secure.

My love for you was instilled
by God to carry you  
on the hands of His providence
certain and strong and sure.