Everything we said we'd do to make this happen has fallen by the wayside.
I've let myself deteriorate into this stagnant person
that settles for less than his purpose.
And I've given you less than yours.
These keys that unlock the door to normality, they fit the locks so very, very perfectly,
and I let the comfort become commonplace to point that risk
was so null and void it didn't exist.
Every day I have someone screaming in my ear that life is not about feeling,
but it's hard to feel like listening when the voice is so pervasive that it becomes intrusive,
and yet still it echoes
through a verse,
through conversation,
from the pulpit,
from these prophetic mouths.
As it turns out, the little things aren't so little,
and the small things end up being bigger than you imagine
as you stop taking notice and let them slip away.
Those little love notes were the things that made us shine,
but now you know I love you,
so I've stopped putting forth the time
to tell you anyway.
Now that the butterflies are gone, it's hard to catch one in this jar,
and over the months I've compartmentalized the sections of my soul,
and built a solid rock wall around my heart.
There's a butterfly in each drawer, and each one might even still be alive,
but they haven't been able to play,
and I haven't let them fly…
So all of me is still living for you,
but somehow some of the pieces got separated ,
and a couple of them started holding record of wrongs,
and a couple of them got irritable,
and a couple of them started to feel abandoned,
and a lot of them forgot what it was like
before we became normal people and lost that infatuation.
Those little acts of kindness are the things that keep us alive,
but now I know you love me,
so I've stopped putting for the effort,
and I can afford to be rude.
None of these butterflies should have been allowed to fly away.
I should have kept a closer watch.
I should have let the sun in,
and we shouldn't have settled for normality
when then shadows started to turn
those beautiful bright wings a dull gray.
I swear I will act my way into feeling so that we can feel again
and so that we can love again
and so that we can fall in love again.
Those little things that we let slip away will be what pull us back together,
and we know that we are in love,
and I cannot promise you perfection, but I can apologize for where I have failed,
and I can become vulnerable again,
and I can love you the way that you are meant to be loved
Sunday, August 23, 2009
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