i'll be alright when my hands get warm i have a children's book on my bedside, glowing trees in the lamp light as the snow begins to fall and i'm eating oatmeal just to stay warm. i'm swept up in circular conversations, on repeat for the eighth time, this song never changes. we just say the same things. you tried to sing me a melody, i gave you the words to find a home in me, but the lights went out and i realized that i am no one's home, i am barely my own. i can't take care of you and i don't want to be taken care of, i don't need a mother, i just wanted a friend and a lover. the sickness and the cold are setting into my bones now, i feel so little and what i do feel is glowing brightly but far away. how can i reconcile a spark that never dies and yet had no reason to exist in the first place with a love that consumed me and then burned out in an instant? i thought that i was done with this. maybe i'm not capable of forever, maybe my life is meant to be a series of polaroids captured in short moments of certain people who taught me more about myself than i could have learned on my own. i'm not clever, i have to hold your hand just to keep warm because i don't know how to keep myself warm, i'll just freeze out here on my own. but i don't need a mother, remember? just a hand, maybe a blanket, maybe a kiss on the cheek, just for the days when i'm weak and can't breathe or get out of bed properly. for the days when i sit on the floor of the shower and cry until the warm water runs out and i'm high on the wet cold that suffuses me thoroughly. i'm delirious in this, nothing makes sense, every choice feels like a step in the wrong direction but how can any direction be wrong if i don't know where i'm going? i guess it doesn't really matter which way you go as long as you're somewhere, as long as you're something to someone. validate me like a parking pass when i'm beautiful enough for you to love me or give up everything or to want to because i probably wouldn't let you anyway. you're free to park here but that doesn't mean you won't be towed later on so don't get comfortable, this is only temporary. i'm not a permanent kind of place. you keep coming back to me, finding me wherever i am, but where do you go when you're not around? who do you become? these are the things i wonder when i shouldn't be, when i have no right to curiosity. |