Your Arms
It is strange that I had never touched a cigarette until I had remembered how the taste would linger in my mouth after I had kissed you?
How the years keep passing and I’m realizing time heals nothing?
How now my comfort-zone depends on which hushed tone will unveil the best lie?
Is it strange that I still believe in the fairies that take you away to a far away place when you’re feeling sad, but most of the time those fairies take the form of drugs and alcohol
Is it strange how my mother tells me I am selfish, but I would take my own life if it meant I could save someone else’s?
Do you really think it’s strange that after too many sleepless nights I asked for help,
but when my therapist told me to close my eyes and go to the only place I feel safe I ended up back in your arms?
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