I want to go back
To when I was a child
And I didn’t know what it meant
To be self conscious

When beautiful was synonymous
To how nice a person was to you

When I used to fit in the smallest of places
Like in the cupboard under the kitchen sink

I never imagined it was anything other than
Underneath the kitchen sink

But I felt safe there
During bouts of my father’s fury

Like a mouse in a jar
When the dog’s tongue could still lick its cheek
Close enough to understand
The severity of teeth

In my living room
there is a hole in the floor
From a house fire
Just big enough for me to fit into
If I took the shape of a ball

I know I could never fill the hole in your chest

But my heart
Is a bomb shelter
Big enough for the both of us

And if beauty really can be synonymous with nice
Then call me gorgeous
‘Cause it’s all I got

No

Call me, Gorgeous
Why don’t you
You should have me on speed dial by now

I mean
I can bullet proof vest your lonely
And if you tell me I am handsome
I’ll probably fall in love with you

I mean
I am too awkward and lunky to fit anywhere nowadays
Other than a hole in a floor
When cigarette ash crop circled my fears back to life
And I realized that being a man means

Really

You have no place to hide

Unless

It’s in a bomb shelter
I built in the back of my heart

Probably

We could be safe there