Flawlessness

I’m lying in bed and reading what you wrote
And you always know just what to say
And I’m drifting off to sleep and my eyes blur
And you always know the right thing to do.

I don’t know that kind of flawlessness,
That sense of perfection in every move that I do
And every thing that I say to you
And for the first time, I’m unsure of the words I write.

And it’s an odd feeling when the words that I know
Fail me in a sense emptiness that I’ve never known
And I don’t know how to change this
Or to make it better or to make it make sense.

I string words together like they belong with one another
It’s something that I have always known
And the words always made sense and they always fit
And suddenly I’ve lost my voice and what this means.

I can write songs and poems and stories and letters
To describe how I feel when we’re together
But it all sounds empty hearted and it all sounds shallow
And nothing, nothing compares to experiencing it.

You would think I would be a little more self-conscious
But strangely that isn’t the case when you’re around
Because I can feel your eyes on me when I’m there
And I am aware of your presence before you turn around.

And I’m lying in bed, reflecting on something that you wrote
And I don’t know that kind of flawlessness and confidence
That you have with everything that you say and that you do
And if I’m honest to myself, I think that doesn’t really matter.

Written December 2 2008.