Late - ly
I can feel the i - tch, I know:
It's preposterous.

Wh - y is it, that I
never can de - cide
who it is I am, with
con - fi - dence?

Modern tools aside,
I still take the r - ide
taken near distantly by
my an - ces - tors.

Late - ly
I can feel the i - tch, I know!
It's preposterous.

Now, kids, please listen
as you read my voice
how you like. How you like.
I thought I would die by
the time I was twenty five
at fifteen -- but look at me.
Now, kids, I'm touching
twenty nine with a cer -
tain newfound confidence.
I survived the prescription pills,
the gender redefinition, as well
as the hormone therapy, and I
want to tell you that I,
believe in you. I believe in you.

Cel - ebrate all of your pain
at your whim and as you live,
well, the pain will become
your friend and your impetus.

Lately, I can feel the itch.
I know it's preposterous,
but I must continue to
explore and change
unless I aspire to
placidity, and I
don't-- in fact
I never will.

I wish it were still like that. I wish we stayed in bed until the sunrise and the birds began their day. We used to talk for hours on the rooftops of broken homes. One of them being mine. We lied upon the stars searching galaxies high and low for forgotten love. I was entranced in the way that you giggled and pointed at shooting stars. My wish was always you. I wished upon a shooting star that I could stay with you forever in the moment of hopeless love. The love we had as kids. At some point in time, the stars stopped shooting and the galaxies lost their shape for I sit alone on rooftops now and search for you but, you’ve never been found.

We ran to the play fort,
that sits in the backyard.
under the shade of trees,
where little veils of light find their way
through the curtain of leaves and branches.
it was there you stole a kiss from me,
but i would freely give them all to you.

we can’t play tag with time forever.
it’ll catch us soon.