Lifehouse, and The Girl

There were storms in her eyes
named after people who had come
long before I

They tossed her carelessly
across jagged rocks
And those pupils looked up
and saw a lighthouse in mine

I assured her, insisted
I am naught but a mess
She tells me she likes it
with my fingers around her neck

I'm not a shipwreck, I realized then
until I've finally crashed into her,
bursting through the haze
I am the life raft navigating in vain
the storms of people who hurt her and left