What We're Not

from Sitting on Fences by nost.

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lyrics

Your jawline was firm, at least enough to come to terms with your lying. I sat there watching you act despite the choking on the knots your stomach is tying. It's not use at this point to deny the ways in which I disappoint and strive to find the words to keep us alive and afloat for just one more day. We're like little fish who blow bubbles when we have nothing left to say. Twirling to the surface, spinning, and made of nothing but air. Like a grandfather clock patiently waiting for death in his favorite chair. Like him, I'm not as much a builder as I am a man with gasoline and a fire's flicker in my eyes, set upon you it would seem. Though I'll never be a voice of reason, I'm not as much a voice of doubt. Because doubt just whispers endlessly while I need to shout to be heard. My lessons won't quietly be learned.

So I'd prefer it if you'd just stop and take in air. While it might seem your dissatisfaction needs to be shared, it doesn't. If this is what your judgment feels like, then death is just and older cousin. Because as much as it hurts to see my intentions in shambles, I'd rather thinks of the things you are to me instead of what I wasn't. Because I wasn't secure. And when things get bad again, oh, I'll bite that flashing lure. Let it take me up to where my friends are mad that I fought them. Where my intentions can't hide anymore at a murky bottom, safe from the leering eyes of people, who, to my surprise, might just have given me a chance.