I wanted to watch the white lines
    pass us as we began to run
  blurring into curves and a path
                   something solid to cling to

Why are you
      why are we
          always running from what we need most?

In some way, you always seem to fit
     flow with those passing dashes
  separating each into
                elemental moments
       based upon false premonitions

Why are you
    why are we
             trapped by our bad habits and thoughts?

And in some way, I never did fit
          within that mis-painted room
     writing a bitter song
                writhing in the heat of your embrace
     swearing that all I needed
              was to be better
while I was at my best
        tearing at the seams of my mind
    and leaking out the corner out of my eye
              painting pictures of pain-filled clouds
        trying to rip from the seams of the sky

I feel better
        much better…