Rose-Colored Duress

I stay up all night and away I fly, To the field in which to me, you convoked your goodbye. I’m standing in a flowing white dress, My ankles deep in rose-colored duress, And I stumble without you to catch me. And I never stop falling. But sometimes there’s a falter in the way that I feel, And for a moment everything is quiet. The sky turns black and you disappear, But still in the field I wait for you, right here. Because waiting for you is like waiting for rain in a drought, Disappointing without a singular doubt, But still giving me the comfort of hope. So i think that I’ll stay, Standing in this white dress, Ankle-deep in rose colored duress. For waiting for rain is better than dry leaves, Sinewy and weak, catching the first lick of flame. Waiting for you and hoping you'll come back, To remind me that I’m alone in a room full with people, For deep down we know that right for you, I’m not. I’ll stay in the field looking for the girl, Who left me in the cold, frozen to the bone, Clutching my own hand in a desperate attempt to feel less alone.