and when his tiny head
emerged from hair and folds of skin
i thought to myself
if he only knew
if he only knew
he would climb right back in
like i do
The train wrapped 'round the zoo, lights dancing off her eyes as we got lost in them together. Discovering God and each other, she beamed with life, and I beamed of her. First kiss on the porch, she drove away, wrapping the memory in permanent time. Nobody tells you when it happens - write this down. On this day. On this night. You will never again be so in love. So..happy.
Hiding behind the theater door, so small as I bent to kiss her hand. The statements made in nouns would be replied to with philosophy and telekinesis. Call and answer, question and mark. As if conspiring with my DNA, she knew everything, spoken and not. Again I forgot to write it down - you will never again be so completely understood.
now that my blushing bride
has done what she was born to do
it's time to bury dreams and
raise a son to
live vicariously through
Waiting again. Always waiting. Meet me outside the door, I'll be out in a second. The hours kept tied to that rope, dangling before the mouth of the lion, never finished off but hoping for it. The poems and romance and hope and desire, pulled from me like a car in a lake. Write this down, you fool. You can't possible know what she is stealing from you. And how bitterly you will miss it.
With a playful grin, she skipped around me, matching every line on the list. All the musts, none of the can'ts, it all made sense. She'll sit with me, happy to be there. I'll sit with her, constant and unchanging. If we never change, this will always work. She hasn't read the things I forgot to write down, and I haven't hers. It's for the best. We say forever, and we mean it. Time and again, we mean it. She would have been happier with me at 17. Perhaps I would too. She will always be owed an apology for him never showing up.
the sperm swims for the egg
the finger for the ring
if i could take one back
i know what it would be
The kids are out for awhile, the house is dark. You look within for the gear that puts you in drive. But more and more, your key is small and the lock is a galaxy. You cycle through the compartments of your life - surely one of them must have the joy joy joy down in your heart. Keep digging, you say, you'll find it. People have found motivation from much worse than this. Shut that whine down, you ungrateful coward. The job and the family and the shunning and the gates and the weight - this is not who you are. You used to care about things, and you will again. You used to have an unshakable confidence, and you will again. You used to matter, and you.will.again.
You still have the ground. It will take you in, and blend you among the stars and the soil that came before. You will be part of something bigger. Something everywhere. As Shakespeare's question arises more and more, for now you take on the form of lighthouse light, spinning in circles, clinging with debrided fingers to the hope that soon there will be something to shine on, and that it will stay for awhile. And it will.
italic lyrics by D. Bazan