Stranger

In the midst of a war and both sides are me

Wine drunk, champagne high

sweeter than fiction,

giving a dreamer's sigh 

I turn cruel when I'm empty,

Reckless when I'm shun,

Brutal when I'm torn, 

vicious when I'm done.

My words are unable to express my thoughts well, 

after they're expressed

they always become a little different, a little stained 

a little foolish, a little drained.

Your heart is a stained glass, 

mosaic tiles that don't fit the way they should

so let the light slip through the cracks 

Blooming into the shades unknown.

Seeping through them as they would. 

Before you let me in and let me row, 

How much of the stranger in you have I known

and how much is yet to know?