May December, fire embers, bourbon kisses in the car.
Love, lust, we, us; I never knew what we are.
I say "are" instead of "were" because the both of us exist.
Ironic that the strongest one was oh, so delicate.
Now or never, stay or sever, do or die, fight or flight.
I couldn't choose: put on my armor or set your wings alight.
Fight or flight seems silly when you put it in perspective.
Fighting for what, flying to where, question after question.
I guess we were stalling all the cars before the crashes.
Praying to the God of time while he lives before he passes.
In the backyard, under the stars, contemplating youth.
The sound of clanking cutlery over a silent dinner for two.
You were fighting a goddamned war as I was flying overhead.
If these walls could talk, I swear they would scream instead
Weeping over the love feigned that was made on the stairs...
The night you were willing was the night that I was scared.
Afraid that I'd lose what I never knew I'd know.
I almost said yes when you almost proposed.
It was out loud wishful thinking: a cabin, a porch, a dog.
A life that could have been that never really was.
You lock your door as I go home and we go our separate ways.
Cry, denial, up all nighter, reevaluate.
You'll wake up to a colder bed and wish that you had fought.
I'll wake up jaded in a bitter hatred regretting what I lost
Like water in paper, we disintegrated. A dull painful truth.
Of everything that never breaks.. delicate things always do.