today, she’s standing in the pouring rain, her jacket soaked through and clinging to her shirt, her knees covered in mud. today, she’s tired of running from it. so she lingers in the downpour, and feels the icy wind on her cheeks.
i’m getting older, and sometimes, when i look in the mirror, i see it like they do: i’m a bright young lady, headed off into the sun of some big old future that’s barely just begun.
today, she’s standing by the river, the cold water up to her knees. she’s gonna make you proud, she’s gonna let you down a hundred times, as the waves surround her, chill her to the bone. she’ll dive under the surface, and listen to the silence. feel the current drag her along.
i’m getting older, ideals fading into harsh realities, like february rain, melting winter wonderlands into long drives home. like the moment you wake up, feel the sleep roll off your eyes.
and i’m a shit liar, really, dancing circles around inconvenient truths. i spend all morning just scrolling through my phone. i could waste time; i could cough into my sleeve. i would bury my head in the sand long before i tell you what i mean.
today, she’s walking home, and her jacket’s soaked through. she’s on a boat to god knows where. blink, and the exhaustion will fade, the night will turn to day, and all your best moments will seem to fade to black again. and these precious moments will slip like raindrops down your cheeks.
close your eyes, count to ten. before you know it, you’re gonna be living it all over again.