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