It’s like the spot on the edge of a cliff
Fingers and the heart are sort of numb and blazing hot
The only difference is, that we never fall
Like a horizon that’s never touched by the sinking sun
No warm jacket on a cold night
Thriving sea of emptiness
Yet this feeling of never alone
Work that’s tied to a meaning
Restless dreams that keep living
A vision of an idealistic world that we’ve admired
Seasons that change, but that are full of hopes
Sweet stuff, sweet words, sweet dreams
All those things, pulled from inside a magician’s hat
Fantasy is where you are
Like a shooting star with bits of lingering shimmer, even after I close my eyes
Like infinite dust sprouting from a cyclone in the desert
The howling of the winds in scary nights
Amid sadness, deep pain, and restlessness
Like an unfinished free verse
That’s where we seem to linger
Dance on the musical notes in a paper
Appear and disappear in vinyl images
Get embossed in the burning red fire
We’ve promised to give our lives several times before
We’ll promise several times after
I’ll never find you
You’ll never find me
In any direction but this point on the cliff’s edge
How the hell does one do it? Age gracefully. How do you manage to spin and flow as you dive? As you die?
How do you make the best out of winter? How do you cook food and manage kids? Slap on a smile around your family? Pretend to listen to your friends? Sacrifice the time that you could be sitting underneath a tree all depressed, by hanging out with people that you don’t want to deal with?
How do you stand up tall and preach morality, and live a lie to yourself day after day? Get moving on coffee every morning so that you don’t fall asleep in the daylight? Make money and blow it all on retail therapy, games, watches, phones, vacations, cars, and expensive pets. On a box of pizza slathered with cheese and grease.
How do you chain smoke and not hurt your throat 24/7?
Don’t you ever get mad because the world is as is it right now?
Can you put on a colorful jacket on a rainy day and walk the grey, dark, cold streets without an umbrella just to feel alive? Or would you rather have tea parties with a bunch of freaks and have a good time. Would you be willing to lose it all over a bottle of wine. Would you lose your house and a car and walk the streets naked. Would you live to tell about it.
But I understood you when you did
And she thought
She literally didn’t want anything else