"Agree to disagree," I say to myself
To a portal of polished glass,
With a twirl of skeleton bone,
With a flash of hollow eyes,
With a smile of ragged lips.
"You say you try and try, but...
I know you are no perfect thing.
You look too much, not enough.
You take up too much space."

"Agree to disagree," I say to myself,
To a window of polished glass,
With a mouthful after mouthful,
With a touch of fragile fingers,
With a glance of hopeful gleam.
"You say you try and try, but...
I become by approximations,
You look hopeful, not desolate,
You take up not what you deserve."

"Agree to disagree," I say to myself,
To a mirror of polished glass,
With a flex of muscle regrown,
With a brush of hair that bends,
With a heart that beats safely.
"You say you try and try, but...
I know you for what you are.
You look beautiful, not destroyed.
You take up just enough."

I know you will not go away,
Twisted thing inside of me,
But in the matter of thought and heart...
We can agree to disagree.