We go in many directions, you and I
Lines blur and hearts disconnected getting harder to detect
We break into many pieces, you and I
Collage of stitched tatters no longer makes for fine art
I weep into empty barrels
Collection of many weeks worth of promises unfulfilled
We force too many stories, you and I
Complicated plots and unpolished theatre-tricks becoming our refuge
Did you forget your lines, honey?
Did you miss your one shot to be prince?
And light! Bright light!
But there you are, an assortment of black
Too many colours all mashed up
We are too many colours, my love, you and I
Yet to learn to mix them right
We are all the wrong sizes, you and I
We are all the wrong colours, honeyfall
We are everything we swore we would never be
You are your father
I am my mother;
loving your father in all the wrong ways