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first to leave

First to Leave

She missed the bus on Thursday
And they met in the street
She reasoned fate had slowed her down
Just so they could meet

She then got him to love her
Just to show herself he would
Just to quiet all the voices
That whispered she's no good

But they always won her over
They always made her see
His love had somehow trapped her
They said she should break free

And he will sit in darkness
And she will haunt him there
And he will start to work on pretending not to care

And she'll be somewhere crying
And he will shift his mind
And she will ride the clouds of all the days she left behind

His friends are sympathetic
They say he's better off she's gone
He nods and drinks his coffee
He knows that they are wrong

It happened on a Thursday
It was like an open door
It was a funny one way entrance
That everyone looks for

He can't change that he needs it
And she won't quite believe
That what she needs won't disappear
So she is first to leave
If you would, I would like to read an elaboration of, "ride the clouds of all the days she left behind." ...DGB
Sure thing. Although this is fiction, one of the pieces refers to a good relationship I ran from as a baby Christian. I knew I was running, and that wasn't the only thing that I was running from. But before I was able to go through the struggle and feel stuff I didn't want to let myself, I would "ride the clouds" of what I ran from. That is, look back and glorify the past to keep me out of the present, distract me from what God was saying to me at the moment. Or try and recreate the pain of something in the past to use that as an excuse to stay immobile or stagnent and not grow.

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