I’ve been cold as the trees will be come snowfall, bare, alone and covered by a winter that won’t let me sleep, just shiver in ice crystal sheets. I’ve wanted to convince myself that all the beauty that left me will come back one day, more full of life and breathe and poetry then I have yet to imagine but I’ve been frozen and deaf.
I don’t want to wear my heart on my sleeve, I want to walk around with my internal organs slung across my body bearing blood, slinging truths from my hearts lips as if my mouth were the ivy league university of vocal veracity, I want to serve the soul, calm the crazed, help the hallow feel whole, I want to perpetuate peace by softening the severity of realities smack.
Cause if life is a bitch, I want to get to know her bruises, I want to hold her through the night and tell her it will all be alright, that it doesn’t have to be so hard, and to just hang tight to what she believes in because even if she doesn’t believe that her emotional economy will recover from it’s recession blues that the sun is rising orange and she can pick and peal it, taste its juices, yes each day is hers for the taking to do with as she chooses. And if she chooses she can not only step into the light but she can take control of it’s bright.
Her strength may be fragile but that doesn’t mean she’s lost her might, she’s had that “S” tattooed on her chest since utero, yes she was born a hero she just hasn’t tapped into her powers yet, hasn’t quiet found the confidence but I have no doubt that when the right song is played her soul will learn how to dance and from that moment on she’ll never forget the steps and she’ll always be stepping in the right direction: up. She’s shooting for the Moon or Venus, Mars, looking for her love, her supernova because then she knows the worst is over.
Explosions in space and change both seem horrible at first
but one creates gold and the other eliminates the cold.
So if I seem chilly, wrap your arms around me,
baby, just hold me through the night and tell me it will all be alright.
