Pocket Knife

She walks down alleyways at night

It’s too enticing, the darkness.

She feels safe with her pocket knife,

Likes the pounding in her chest.

And it’s too hard not to stare at the sun

It’s better than looking down,

All she wants is to feel a rush

It’s better than feeling like

The train tracks.

She looks for steel in the brick city walls

She puts on her act,

It’s her show, she waits for a call

Her lifeline.

He doesn’t seem to care about her knife

She’s hid it far beneath him

He doesn’t seem to care about her life

And she pretends not to see

But she’s still drawn to the pain.

And what’s the point if she’s not understood?

He’s not coming around

Part of her wonders if she could

Just wait to be found

Just wait to be

In his arms.

She likes when they’re eyes almost touch,

And he sees her now

In that other worldly way,

Her guard’s down.

She runs to felons, she runs to hurt

But now he has her arm

She’s out of trouble, it’s almost worse

Feeling like there’s no control

He holds her tight

He reveals her light

Her mind running like a child

From the fear of love

But he holds her now

And she let’s go of her pocket knife.


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