Текст и описание
The blur wasn't the room,
it was me not wanting to look.
I called it love that I couldn't quite name.
I called the static in my chest a feeling.
Turns out,
it was just the truth
trying to get through.
Every excuse I made
had your face in it. Every excuse I made was really about me.
I was the one fogging the glass, breathing on it,
just so I wouldn't have to see it.
It only took me looking straight on
for the whole picture
to finally
hold still.
I see it clearly now.
No fog on the glass, no excuse left to make.
Every late reply,
every half-given evening lines up exact.
No room left to shake.
I see it clearly now,
and it's not confusing.
it was me not wanting to look.
I called it love that I couldn't quite name.
I called the static in my chest a feeling.
Turns out,
it was just the truth
trying to get through.
Every excuse I made
had your face in it. Every excuse I made was really about me.
I was the one fogging the glass, breathing on it,
just so I wouldn't have to see it.
It only took me looking straight on
for the whole picture
to finally
hold still.
I see it clearly now.
No fog on the glass, no excuse left to make.
Every late reply,
every half-given evening lines up exact.
No room left to shake.
I see it clearly now,
and it's not confusing.
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