Today is not the day
For introductory phrases
And antimusical interludes

Today is the day
For carpe diem to come out to play
For being mended by a girl with a slightly intoxicated smile
Who lent you her keys
For passing to be nothing more than strange 
For watching the cyclic motions of a dreamer
One more day, one day more
But their heart keeps them trapped in inky night
And they haven't seen a day since they rolled down that hill
in the pouring rain
For unironically running into an untainted sunset
And basking in its unlondonlike glow
For ignoring the fact that talent is just out of reach of confidence and passion
For finally being strong enough 
To crawl out of that black leather and ripped denim armor
And realize for a moment
That being cute is just fine
For leaning into his warm, strong chest
Knowing he will probably push you away
And knowing that if you do this now you won't cry
For letting them all know you see the world through Picasso's eyes
And it's painful beyond belief
For knowing that most of your confidants are actors
Who weren't made for the theater business
And the only girl who isn't a charlatan
May soon be whisked away to the city of the selfish
For realizing that if you hold on to your childhood tightly enough
Time will stop
But only for you
For understnding that the reason they deny the fact
That a place can change you
Is because they don't really know what a place is
And the only place they want you moving is backwards
For no longer resting atop mountains
You did not climb
For painting with more colors than any wind could offer
For ignoring their upended skepticism
And dancing a graceful burlesque
For inverting every plaid suitcase
That ever had to carry the forbidden book
And scraping off the black tar left behind
Hoping it may erase some of the boxes as well
For running off impossible edges
Not because you have a death wish
But because you have a life wish
For forgiving the people who painted you black
So they could shine the brightest
And for smiling at the fact that they will never comprehend
That the dark is the best place to hold a tea party
Boston wasn't ready, but San Francisco was
And for finally, finally
Letting the Tsunami of vibrancies that could never be physical
Have their own form of presence
Because ink and blood are the least innovative ways to write
You know I'm a sucker for the original

Out with the new,
In with the broken
They stand no chance against my wise, healing hands
For I am an empty girl
Unclouded and sage
And you are the perfect storm
So you with the warm chest, lit from the inside out

Show me those asymetrical scars

Because just for today, your broken heart is mine