Read about attachment styles all afternoon Now I'm looking at the moon from my bed She's a blurry little brightness, in a deep dark sky Who neglects to swallow her up, but why? Well maybe the sky's been fed Everything past arm's length Behind crossed lines of a window screen That maybe I'll kick loose one night For a better view Is quiet and tinted blue With time and patience, I wonder if it's skin that dulls a razor? Or is it the hair, the air, the water? Maybe I will move the question down my arms and into fingertips And see if I can find What's on my mind Instead I think about the good, the bad, the timing of it all For the hundredth time, I hit a wall Everything in my mind Behind eyes that refuse to close Is spinning and I'm far too tired For the pace required To make sense of me and you The questions make my heart unwind How not to cross lines that're undefined How to know when to monitor my clutch Or withdraw my touch When wanting anything feels like asking too much Everybody tells me I'm gonna be just fine Why do they get to know? Every thing is fuzzy, every line They say everybody sees the same moon Maybe that'll make more sense soon