There Are Hands On My Hips And I Dread Where They Might Go; Cold And Calloused And Full Of Intent.

I spent so much time trying to tell you how much you look like the sky.

I was wrong, the sky looks like you.

Everything about you scares me; I guess that's why I'm here.

I want to learn to love like you

I've been here for a while but I really shouldn't stay.

There's an ache in my joints, makes it hard to get away.

I guess I was waiting for you to come and rescue me.

But you never even noticed and now I cannot leave.

@milknosugar-youtube

In response to your beautiful untitled song. This one is for you.

He held my heart in his hands and asked me why it broke

They told us to aim for the stars, that even our failures would be rich.

They didn't tell us that in exchange our victories would feel cheap and lifeless.

I have to fail to feel.

You called me Atlas and pressed the weight down on my shoulders.

Time has passed but I'm not better, just older.

Cauterized

We hear the story of Icarus and paint it as a tragedy. We see his ambition as his ultimate downfall. He loved too much, tried too hard, flew too high. He burned up in his own pursuit of the sun. Never reaching her surface. He failed, he fell, he died. Icarus caught fire in the most glorious of spectacles as he fell back to earth. Surpassing his own goals to touch the sun in the simple quest to feel something more. Something outside the confines of our logical reality. He caught fire and burned out, bathing the earth in bright blinding light. Becoming the object of his desires. And still, we whisper in piteous tone a show of ignorance in its self. Because we don't understand the man who became a star.

I thought I knew what I was getting myself into

I thought I could be good for both if us.

I thought the butterflies were anticipation

But now I feel like I'm using you to get over my own insecurities

I'm not good at the whole girlfriend thing

I'm scared to see you as mine

Maybe I just need some practice

Maybe I just need some time

If I mess this up it's not your fault

After all my problems are mine.

I don't consider myself particularly religious.

But I think I might understand why rural areas are so full of superstition.

Not out of an antiquated idea of ignorance.

But because if you've ever seen dawn bleed red into the dying breath of a bright white night, then you'd know God too.