The Contours from The Avalanche by Owen

Lies and vanity
My worsts got the best of me
It appears that I’ve lost everything

Red wine and tangled teeth
I’m having a hard time putting words on things

I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the contours of a shyness that never sleeps
Or the pain that took them from me

I’m in therapy and she’s in therapy
Turns out all the answers are just questions for next week’s sessions

I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the contours of a shyness that never sleeps
Or the pain that brought you back to me

Do you mind if I stare?
Or if I put my hands here?
Can I call you mine for one more night?

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