I know that the clo-
ser I get to you, the hard-
er I fall apart.

There is sea salt all over my hands, and I know I'm not the ocean.
So let's drink tea out of mason jars,
with cold porcelain shards instead of ice,
and let's cut our mouths on every argument we've ever had.
I hope you don't mind if I make a home out of you,
and I'm sorry if my spirit doesn't fit so well inside of yours, you see
I have been carrying dead weight with me like a terminated pregnancy,
and mourning the emptiness inside of me like a miscarriage.
Now it seems like I'm only giving birth
to the sorrow that my heart cannot hold.
Now I'm starting my mid-life crisis early, stating over, starting with you.
I'm writing my past into the sand, waiting for the tide to clean my slate.
So just wait a little but while I hold my breath hostage,
and I will wait for a ransom to come,
and I will pray that it doesn't come barreling down my door, looking like you.

I don't know where
        I'm going
    or quite exactly
            where I want to be.

             I just know that
my feet keep moving,
                  my heart keeps beating,
      and there's nothing
              standing
            in my way.

You're the magic
I'm the darkness
I can't break the blackness
I'm drinking to excess
Dreaming to excess
You're the magic.

The tiresome stretch forward
My hand tries to grab the handle
To open the door to paradise
I must pick lock
Or barge through
Paradise isn't just for you.

You're still the magic
But I see through your strategy
You are trying to pick away at my hope
As I try to build it up.

I'm the disaster
Rubbing the belly of chaos
Fondling the ears of brutality
I need expectation not doubt.

My eyes see you
Crying tears of despair
You're still the magic
With angelic hair
You're still the magic
That's tasting fear.

I'm sorry for the lack of silence
But I need to shout out
My feelings.