I Have Winter In My Pocket And Great Adventure In My Genes

Call me old fashioned, cliche, or repetitive.... but never careless. I've become used to counting the steps from the door to her room, just for those mornings when my vision is too blurred to see through the living room to the front door.

Loyal eyes spotted you and contacted my ears. I've caught you in the act. Covering up doesn't mean closing your eyes and counting to three. It's cute that you still believe in such things. But I have a feeling that when you open up, nothing will be as you wished.

Tonight will be all about yellow rain boots, and slow dancing.

Come clean or I'll confront you among the masses. Sticks and stones are way to obvious. Pick up the truth and hurl it in my direction. I'm a vampire baby, and your stake is coming clean. Crawl on top, count to three, and thrust your confessions into my chest. The nosebleeds are only me feeding upon myself.

We are supposed to allow our sparks to fly and set this world on fire. We could be this amazing disaster. We've got forever written all over us. Until then I'll be standing on your doorstep, trying to feel the earth shake.