You search
for my words when you’ve been up all night
Trying to
figure out the answers that the moon didn’t give you
And you try
to hear mine instead.
You think ‘oh,
she has an old soul trapped in an 18 year old body’
but you don’t
stop to wonder what made my mind grow this old
Because the
process doesn’t really matter,
As long as
you like the result.
I will hear
you for hours and hours,
My own
project to delight upon
I will
fight to help you.
You will
come again,
Because my
words seem to fit just right into your problems,
The resolution
of your conflicts.
You’ll use
me as your confessional,
Trying to
seek in me for your salvation.
But
remember,
I don’t
rescue – I only listen.
You will
tell me your secrets and I will save them
in parts of
me that no one gets to see
you’re safe
with me.
And I may
even ignore my own troubles
with the
space yours occupy in me.
There’s no
good reason I’m worn as a safe board,
You won’t
be the first to use me as a shelter in the middle of the storm
There were
ones before you
And there
may be ones after
Your stay
relies on one thing:
Where are
you when it’s my turn to be weak?
What do you do when it's me who wants to scream?
I live under thunders and lightings too,
And I may look strong,
but sometimes, I'll seek for shelter in you.
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