The county line looks blurred
As my eyelashes gather tears.
My small, suburban town isn’t home anymore.
Bad choices are always made past midnight
But the night is young and the day far,
Enough time to drive away from
Mistakes, regrets, and his hollow, hollow eyes.
I tried to explain footsteps in the rain
And dances under the moon,
Yet his callous hands always held me firm,
Stopping me from ever reaching the sun.
No one ever teaches you
How to be brave in the face of love,
How to be defiant.