The strobe light lightning lights up my eyes bright
it’s night –
and I’m sure none of this can be right
Please don’t fall behind though, this is the best part:
when the heart sighs
but it only comes out in part
because of the spark
seen in the loneliest dark.
It’s more than desperation
but a bit less than hope.
There’s no promise here
of a good way to cope as I stare
at an extra large mental tightrope.
But I’m done waiting for crowds to begin to form and gather,
attention’s dumb when you seek it,
I’d really just rather
Lose myself in my being,
my expressed sense of self –
clean out my dirty closet
rip old ideas off the shelf,
scan the mess on the ground,
But as I’m looking around
I hear the sound
of a laugh and T says,
Hey look Captain, look! Your own personal hell!
The tears you pretended to try and dry to sell
your continued faith in the abstract intra-personal tell
of all humanity is back, it’s alive and it’s well!
And splashing through these puddles of fake, false regret
Are those souls that you begged yourself to forget!
Can you hear them? They’re screaming for you to just let
loose the ruse that your potential’s not met.”
At this point, though, it’s just the same old song
the same urge to second guess and believe that I’m wrong
that my faith’s not enough to keep me going on
in the face of these conflicts that seem to last way too long
The burden’s mine and I own it, no doubt about that.
Whether alone or teamed up
my life’s mine to take back.
But why should you care for the silly things I’ve been through?
Subjectively, it could mean nothing to you.
I guess I have to admit that this is for me, too.
And… yeah, maybe it’s here for me, too.
Yes – I have faith that all this is here for me, too.