Imperfection.

When nothing makes sense,
The wax runs out of fire,
The love splits and you find a new desire,
Just don't remember me then,
Don't vent on me, Don't redeem my company.
I get used to it, Just fall for it.
Any of it, Maybe all of it.
Just too soon to notice, Usually to soon to recognise.
This craziness I've played with for a while.
Like a weapon of mass eruptions,
The bottled up emotions that burst out in flames,
Lighting up your heart, leaving you with muffled thoughts,
A tangled brain, A confused self, Most of all a lost heart.

They always find the wrong in us,
We're flawed, we're imperfect.
But we're happy, they don't see.
The world talks, they don't need a storyline.
Its what they do their faces,
Its what they call make up,
These lifeless bothers just make it up.
Runaway as fast as you can,
Get a cloak maybe,
" Hey, Excuse me, Sorry to bother,
Could you just send me back in time? "
Don't worry, you're not crazy.
I've been there before, Let me help you.
They call it self obsession.
" Don't worry, they took you for someone else. "
As you just sit there and shed tears,
Hurt by all means, falling apart.
This is life, This is what you get.

I've been there, I've cried.
Take my hand, I'll lead the way.
Just don't stay for too long.
For I fall in love,
For I get used to the attention,
Get used to the smiles,
Get used to the thoughts.
Get used to this walk.