Confessions of a 5'1"

It is 11:11 and I have a sense of urgency.

I know you're probably asleep at this time, stolen with a chain on your trust.

I don't understand how such fabrications can lure you so easily, but they got me.

Got me - questioning you.

You don't understand how such honesty can trick me so easily, but they got you.

Got you - questioning me.

I always took the easy way and sat around, but you threatened to take my legs if I didn't follow and my heart if I didn't believe. But I've always had to look up to see you.

They can't take us together, because we'll be too much. So they catch us separately and hang us five feet from the ground. I'm already dead, but they don't know that that doesn't stop you because you're taller than that.

And I pinky promise: I'll kidnap you from this heaven and show you the world I hold in my hands, and together, we'll hide all the things we adore. Because we don't care anymore and we'll run away with happy, uneven steps.

My bed is wicked and tempts me with you.

Five hours. Five hours is all I get.

Now is the time to say good-bye.

It is 11:12 and I have a sense of urgency.