A term I don't know that much about,
But it has something to do with moving,
Which has something to do with being free
And that most of what we would call love
Is a place we are compelled to stay,
To "Prove you love only me"
Or "Don't — I need you — go away."
The mind is so good at pity
Our ability to see ourselves in
Those who we're willing to believe the best
Is as close as we seem to divine,
But the mind paralyzes
— Every point-of-view is truth.
The heart, they say, is far too cruel,
But it always knows when to take flight.