If you’ve ever found a pen that makes all your letters and worlds look like calligraphy,
Then you’d know who you were to me
Everything is fast and slow whenever you’re around me
But all I want is time to stop
It just won’t be enough to get me to you
Miles and miles of open road and waterfalls of gasoline
Can’t close the gap between our two worlds
And if it ever really was about the way I felt
If it was ever really about how my mind broke down
I wouldn’t have taken a step
That same damn step that makes the sound of you walking to me
Eyes begging for happiness I could never give
That last final letter
I wrote about how you mattered
About how the sun sets for you
Was never sent
Just ripped near where I signed and left on the side of the highway
Maybe it will find a way to you another day
But you’d never question who wrote it
Cause the way he looks will be the way he treats you
Just the way you wanted all along
Freedom is still a fallacy and something you spent randomly
Never really fought for, never really seen
Something worth selling because you wanted to be safe and sound
And I will find a piece of life outside of your gardens
Never did I want back in
And maybe that’s why I was thrown out
I still bow to the Red Queen
The woodsmith and your cards.