The snow is falling on my window,
my innocence is my enemy again.
I always thought that it would save me,
I thought my mind would be my best friend.
But after all this time,
why does it still feel like it’s a crime…
I want to get lost with somebody,
not lost because they left.
I want to know someone’s heart,
when I wake up in their bed.
I want the sheets to feel the same way as our minds–
warm and dark, and helplessly intertwined.
eyes can be so deceiving-
they can look at you like you’re the best they’ve seen.
But i’ve come to know that they’ve looked that way,
at so many girls just like me.
and after all this time
why do I still feel like it’s a crime…
time and time again I realize
things are never what they seem
people say the things they feel
but it’s never what they mean