The stars and moon weep with the willow trees
Lightning cracks like the breaking of a bad habit
Or my aching knees
Worn out from holding the weight of my shame on my shoulders
It's almost romantic
I've fallen in love with the way the world sounds at three in the morning
And the feeling of the pit in my stomach
Shadowed and shaded
Or jaded by fear
I'm afraid of who I am meant to be
More than I am afraid of storms
At least I can find comfort in the sound of the rain beating against my window
Like the gentle strumming of a guitar on a warm night
I wish I was an old guitar
Worn down by hands just a little stronger than yours
Maybe then you would hold me
I could play you a song
Or sing you to sleep
I would tell you goodnight to the rhythm of the rain on your window
I wish you liked this romanticized version of the person I wish I was
I wish I was rain or lightning because I know it's much easier for you to love storms too
