Because being tall
Also means that you have to be big all
The time for those that are small.
You bend
Down to comfort a friend
Who's being
Vulnerable. All you're seeing
Is the top of their head
While you look like a god to them.
And instead
When you look for
Comfort, reassurance,
Nothing matches your size anymore.
I miss how things were before.

You’ve grown where you were born
Never leaving the comforts you’re familiar with
Yet not knowing the wonders of the unknown
Never risking potential experiences
Choosing to keep within your ceramic walls
Has made you wary
You find yourself safe and protected
But your roots are stunted without care
And you can’t escape the mites that eat your leaves

Mosquito, mosquito
annoying chiquito,
no more flights,
no more bites,
no more bon appetito,
you pushed me too far
for you it's finito

“don’t make yourself
small for anyone,”
You say to me.
i say nothing but i
think to myself,
“i used to be larger than life,
i used to be big as the house,
the stars,
i used to reach for the sky
but then
You told me to be quiet.”
“don’t let them push you around,”
You say—
but You told me not to fight.
don’t question, don’t argue
don’t cry, til i choke
on the tears that i swallow
down, down, down.
You tell me to be strong
but where do You think
i learned how to make myself weak?
i went and i made myself weak
for You.

is that not how i’m supposed to be?

Feet leave the floor in drumbeat-timed pulses
Sandwiched by giants, I undulate there
At zenith I glimpse, the lead singer’s hair

Crowd-bound congested, controller convulses
Unobserved passenger bobs in the air
Feet leave the floor in drumbeat-timed pulses
Sandwiched by giants, I undulate there

World is all movement on giant-jump trusses
Weird carousel in need of repair
Invisible rider evading the fare
Feet leave the floor in drumbeat-timed pulses
Sandwiched by giants, I undulate there
At zenith I glimpse, the lead singer’s hair

sometimes i wonder when i cry, does god listen
but maybe i should quit crying
go back to rutland, where we all suffer
where we all ache bullet wounds
named after our mother
where we all love snow and
it often rains
so when the sun does come
it's a subtle pain
warmth unfamiliar
unaccustomed to change,
unprotected from the elements,
we are all one in the same-
the sisters and brothers
from the other side of the tracks
who got unlucky and missed the train.

sometimes i think god just went blind
or maybe he forgot our names
but at least we take cover in
the trauma of one another,
our broken bones
and broken veins

sometimes i wonder when we cry, does god listen
if we can ever heal in the arms of each other
if we shattered the sky could we
stop the rain