The Working Title - The 2nd Floor

On this level there is mystery,
no one's around and I can't open the glorious door.
This room is squeezing me and I know I'm leaving
with everything mixed up in my head
and I know we're leaving with everything we know left unsaid
as if we knew nothing and not a word escapes our lips.
This stairwell threatens to spit me out
so I'm waiting to thank you for being beautiful.
Too many times I drive away with my heart still sitting in the door
and my foot filling my mouth.
Simple goodbyes are choked out
and this train ride tastes of bitter and sweet.
More time with myself than with you
just means I have to make you out of something artificial
like the scenery that flies by and taunts me
to break this glass and jump into a world that will hold me
and never let me go.
Several times I find myself wishing for this train to end,
releasing me into heaven far away, far from you
leaving me to thank you.