The homeowner called up
to me as I danced across the attic floor,
"careful on the creaky boards."
But I didn't listen,

now I don't know where I am,
and everything is dark,

and I miss the way
your bedroom smelled
in the spring time,
with one window open,
and a fan blowing hot air
in from the kitchen.

I told you
I didn't wanna go back there,
and you asked where "there" was
and I said "I can't put my finger on it,
but I don't wanna go back"
and it made sense

even though it didn't.

I keep falling into these empty spaces,
void of fruit bowls & hands to hold.

I keep falling into these empty spaces,
where I can't walk a straight line
because there are only circles.

I keep falling into these empty spaces,
where mirrors refuse to turn away
& familiar voices are distorted
by the unique echoing of silence
when it overlaps silence.

Here I am,
on a bed of thorns
that hide their roses,
wanting desperately
to rip my thoughts from my skull,
scatter them like petals on the ground
and rearrange them...

Here I am,
timid hands,
wabbley knees
wanting desperately
to pick my body
from flesh to bone
til it's raw and naked
and ready to grow in different

I think that's why
they call rock bottom
the wake up call
you get when you need it...

I need it,
I need it,
I need it,

and if there's no foundation,
all that's left to do is build.

I'm ready to climb
out of these empty spaces.

Don't reach your calloused hands
out, palm up to catch my
shaking fingers.

Not this time.

I've gotta learn
where the bricks fit
for myself,
or else I'm always
gonna be leaning
in the wrong direction