I always let it get to me,
Crawling under my skin,
Until its ontop of the surface.
I used to always find comfort in the thoughts,
The thoughts of not acceptance, but belonging.
I used to always charish what I had,
My nestalgia was my failing.
I still just want my city back,
Back the way it used to be. *
I used to look for her, everywhere I went there she was.
A linger on my mind and lips,
This girl I have yet to meet.
I blame those classic songs for installing this in me,
This perfect image, of a perfect girl, perfectly imperfect
And entirely amazing for embracing that simple fact that no other girl can.
I am tired of looking.
Because the yield never comes up short,
Its all in her eyes.
Its all in those darts
They hit me effortlessly,
They tap my heart,
They drain my strength.