The days where you just feel okay in yourself are my favorite
Where others don't abraise you like an itchy wool sweater
Where trouble doesn't sit in your stomach like bad pasta
Where you can float along, just being you
Feeling confident that your face is fashioned in just the right way
That your tights are pulled up
That your shirt is pulled down
Those days where you just embrace the fact that others talk
But it doesn't have to define you
I know I have trouble with this
I think we all do
Others talking is a great part of the things that make me unhappy
I think "Well, if only that person wouldn't be talking about me, I would be happier"
But when the truth is, I can choose whether or not to listen
I can choose whether or not to sit with them
Or whether or not I believe something someone else is saying about my life
Because we all know that other people are the experts on all our problems
Fastening their opinions of us based off the exterior of our faces
Well, if there is someone who knows more about me than I know myself
Come, please have me meet them, because I would sure like the answer key to life's book of problems
Because perhaps they play God, too.

It doesn't have to be some huge ordeal
Not a clash and clamor of pots and pans
Or the thunder of lightning
It doesn't have to make a ruckus

I want that kind of quiet love
The one that sits next to you on the couch
But doesn't have to say anything
Because it knows that you don't always have to talk

I want that kind of love
Where you go to the same diner together every Saturday
Playing hangman and connect the dots
On the back of worn-out, faded pink and blue, advertisement place mats
While you order the same meal because it is tried and true

I want that love where you can go to the supermarket together
Just wandering aimlessly through isles
Deciding on what to make for dinner
Debating over whether $4.99 is a proper price to pay for Rigatoni

That love where you can sing in the car
Along with the radio
Even though you are horribly off key and so am I
But it doesn't matter
Music was never our forte anyway

I want that quiet kind of love
I guess what I really want is friendship

We're a generation
of bad habits
and hypocrites
that'll do whatever
it takes to be happy;
whatever it takes
to supposedly
remain free.                
        
         Because
         the truth is;
                  we're all addicted
                 to something.

And   we     let       it       get
       the    best    of      us

We'll paint
the world
pastel red
and sing
songs as
the world
falls apart.
       And I'll remind
you that
you're absolutely
beautiful when
we take our
last breaths
       And although
I was never
able to
write every
moment
and paint
every horizon
we've rested
our time upon.
      I'd like to
think that
I made you
the happiest you
could ever be.

Is sixteen and seventeen too young
To tell you that I want you to be my wife?
I guess my love was too strong for you
Because my emotions seemed to suffocate your life

Apparently I played too grand a part in your stressful days
A simple "I love you" here and there was too taxing?
My "How's your day?" was a strain to you, my dear?
However my love never weaned, it was constantly waxing

I'm sorry for caring for you the way I did
Could I just make it right again?
I adore you, my love, and it would make me overjoyed
Just to have the closeness of a friend

But here I lay, in a pool of my own tears
Seventeen, and way too young
To feel this hurt, so cruel and so curt
And they say my life has only begun?

Watching the shadows of headlights play off my front walk
From the inside of your car
No one inside, and I'm too scared to be alone
So you stay and wait with me for peace of mind
We recline our seats because we know it will be a while

I let my fingers wander over to the radio
Where I turn on "American Pie"
And we sit there, reclined
For eight and a half minutes, just singing along
And interchangeably talking about life
If someone saw us, reclined together
They would think it was something more than that
But it was just a simple moment in pure bliss
Holding hands, nothing more

"Would you like to go camping with me in a pop up camper?"
"Well how could I? I can't sleep in the same bed as you, dear."
"No, not now. Like in a few years. I want to see the grand canyon. And I would like for you to come with me to see it"
It all sounded so sweet, how could I say no?
I would love to go back there with you
And do all the things I couldn't do the first time around
Maybe we could walk out on to the glass platform together
And lay out and watch the stars
As I point out constellations
One by one
Castor and Pollux
Orion
Sagittarius
The Pleiades

Perhaps one day we will sit in that same spot in your car
Reclined together, holding hands, listening to "American Pie"
Reminiscing on the day we dreamed about everything we could be