Step By Step

I don’t want to fix you. And I certainly don’t need to be fixed. But if we were to fix each other, it would be like this. We'll start with our broken smiles But forget mending a broken heart because what’s the point on fixing things that are meant to be broken Like a glass stomped on at a wedding The heart is meant to shatter and be mended and shatter and be mended and shatter again Our gazes, though, those can be fixed My eyes glass over more often than not which has much to do with the depths my mind travels to Your eyes dart around the room, as if to pace with you, as if to mimic my anxious mind races. And those we can ease as well, our anxious minds. And maybe that will fix enough. It won't even feel like fixing because we just might forget that we were ever broken