I want impossible things.
I just want to make you believe.
But I’m hardly even here.
And day will always break.
And pay checks don’t make themselves.
And I hate how much I love people
That humble my tiny fears.
I’ve rattled the gates at the top of your driveway in the cold of night,
Waiting for you to open,
Too many times.
I say I get taller by breaking down,
But quietly I wish we both believed in the same religion.
So we could stop arguing about it.
So you could think I was a genius.
So you could bask in it all like I did.
But I digress,
I learn to say.
I’ll learn to pray
Another way.