Red letters float through a puddle on the platform floor
The clouds are indecisive or trying to stand out now that the storm is over
I'm preparing what I'm going to say to you but it keeps slipping out of my hands and landing in the shredder made with the teeth of things I've done in the past that I regret
You throw me around the room in some gentle way, as these emotions forgo gravity and seek out two different points at the same time
I love it here but I'm worried that I'll be showing bone before the ride is over
I've already got enough wounds to air out in front of you at some point and I don't know how to spare you from their gore and potential permanence
But I try not to think of that as I sit on this train toward you, heart in my hands and at a loss for where the rest of my thoughts are at as you encapsulate my mind's view
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