The Nature Of Hands

Remember: When you touch someone's hand and their hand feels cold, your hand feels warm to them.

Don’t be afraid to hold cold hands.

The Middle Of The Bridge

I didn’t ask you here so you could like me.

I asked you here so that someone would know who I was.

The Unsureness Of Being

“Say it again but sound sure.”

But how do I tell you that I’m not sure.

That I’ve never been sure of anything. Ever. In my whole life.

I can’t say that.

So I say what I just said. Just louder.

The Shape In The Mirror

Do you remember when I was good at missing you?

The Parts We Keep

Don’t let them kill the parts of you that they don’t like.

Keep all of you.

Never be afraid to be everything you are.

The Lost And Unfound

I said, “I hope you find who you’re looking for.”

I said, “I hope you find someone to hold your heart.”

Even though I thought I was the one you were looking for.

Even though I thought I could hold your heart.

The Differences Between You

You don’t know me but I play you in the mirror.

And every photograph you don’t like.

I’m also your voice on recordings,
when you don’t like the sound of your own voice.

I look like you but
I’m a little bit bigger
and I move a little slower

It takes me longer to think of the clever thing to say
when everyone is saying clever things.

I look dumber than you.

My hands are clumsy and so are my feet.

For every imperfection you have,
I have two more.

Nothing of yours fits me.

I’m only telling you all this because

sometimes

you look at me
and seem to think
you’re me.

- even with all these differences.

You still look at me
when you think we’re alone

and you cry.

Because you think you’re me.

But I’d never cry if you didn’t.

Because you’re not me.

Because we couldn’t be more different if we tried.