It Looks Good On Me

Sometimes I get so lost (but never with words.)

I'm just the hands on a clock

being used to pass the time.

I'll find my way back through this nightmare.

Cliched and flawed, I'm just one in a million.

My confessions don't sound as sincere in between

make-shift kisses at your door.

It's a jungle out there and I'm just

trying to survive on stolen wit and even cheaper charm.

Making lies and compromising situations,

I've got a belief in the religion of better days.

The challenge is making it past go and collecting $200.

Roll the dice and change the name of the game

to One Life Left To Live.

My inner dialogues couldn't get me out

of this situation.

I'm speechless at the way your smile

makes me nervous.

It's snowing out and I'm ready to shovel

away the path between you and me.

Snow angels don't have a thing on you.

It's your eyes that set you apart.

A final P.S. in correspondence between

the haves and have nots included on the

back of the photograph of the time when

things were easier.

Your words are soothing but your actions cut me.

I'm all torn up inside.

Sewing up old wounds just to pass time.

I wish I could just take you under the blankets

tell you everything that's eating me up...

Let's build a tent out of false ideas and forget

where we're at for just a few minutes.

Remember when daydreaming wasn't such

a bad way to live?

Sometimes I'm terrified that no one

will figure me out.

Loneliness has always looked good on me.