Its two a.m.
and we're still on the phone
talking about all the things
that would never go wrong
between you and me.
As I sit in my room
with a magazine in hand
I flip through the quizzes and horoscopes trying to understand
if we're meant to be, meant to see, meant to experience everything together.
Answers fly at me
a million miles an hour
Coming from all directions
with such force and power
I try to take them all in at once
and push through the pain
of the unbearable, hurtful ones
The beauty of the truth
saves me by out weighing them all because the words aren't mistaken and life isn't a game and now I can get up after every fall because of you.
