cold hands
hold tired heads
late nights
when you're all alone
sit in a chair
and look out the window
thinking of where you are
hide behind your confessions
watch my regression
into who I was before
all this drama
I know who I am
there is no need to tell me
I can see my hypocrisy
as clearly as you can
leaves turn
they're dying but
I turn away
I can't see them falling
it would break
my fragile perceptions
of right and wrong
if you believe,
shouldn't it be your time?
I don't need another
to make me feel good about myself
I felt so good
after all those proclamations
about me
but can't you see
your hollow red muscle
as clearly as everyone else
you can see my hypocrisy
but the truth about yourself
is something veiled to the eyes
I want to be so angry at you
but what would that do?
get things swirled and tilted
truth is I don't belong
in a world of spotlights
for friends and the need
to have you say pretty things to me
why can't I ever make things work?
the mistakes are piling up
right before me
but I can only see them after
I look into your eyes