Chasing Broken Wings

Where's the pencil I placed on my pillow Where's the script I tucked away for the way I scribbled it down was all wrong for the way I wrote the ending seemed so long Who needs another tale of a happy every after Who needs another reminder of the feelings of living in a dream not me... for life is a collision course with a plane sitting in a living room singing Saving Jane feeling like sometimes you're going insane and your mind turns a flip a game of 'if and or', 'heads or tails' is there something more Yes, but we stop at 'Why does this always happen to me' like we were once capturing butterflies for their colors, for admiring how free they seemed to be to chasing them for envy, breaking their wings to ease the pain of coveting a person they can't reach to ease the pain of turning little things into rising earthquakes everytime they re-read the fateful letter they saved for it's the only thing they have left.... I know...cause it still eats away when I have the heart to create magic with paper it turns to lead for the dread I hold inside it burns everytime I just keep my words between the lines..