this user is lunatic

breaking out this misery

Oh, to dream without my eyes

Gods in sky caressing me

All the homes that I have left

now fading into traces

All the promises that I kept

coming back as bruises

look for the evidence of hope

beneath those dried rivers

find me draped in a cloth

as white as doves in Carribbean

recall the child that I was

sleeping in a cradle

mourn for the words in my jaws

before I pulled the trigger

Oh, to swim amidst the stars

the heaven coming closer

Oh, to leave behind the wars

what a wretched loser

and the flowers on my grave

grow without the water

Oh, the freedom that I have

when I'm chasing the birds in chorus

would you kiss my oiled greasy hands?

when I cook some fancy dinner for us

have you grown to like me?

believe me?

have you? because I have,

grown to like that ridiculous song

you make us dance to

have you grown to love me?

trust me? because I have,

grown to know where I belong

only right next to you

ignore empty coke cans on the floor

ignore the knock on the front door

give me your sorrow

give me your tomorrow

and watch me ( watch me, watch me )

how I breathe in all the smoke

that soars your whiskey-eyes

( watch me, watch me )

the world is wicked, cruel, evil

and loads of other disturbing synonyms

would you hide with me in woods?

would you throw away your daggers?

would you bury your swords?

( would you? would you? would you? )

would you end the war?

would you hold my arm?

would you let me love you?

would you let me be your peace?

( would you? would you? would you? )

but it grew to a steady pouring—Co-efficients, Participles, and Tammany Hall—lying in the chilly basement of my mind mixed up together.

This went on for years, no matter how much I paid bricklayers an hour, the slow habits of love like shadows sliding across the yard each day, and putting children to bed every night like the relentless caress of wind on the foundation. They wore me down to vague certainties.

That’s why, when Molly came in her blue flannel shirt and baggy jeans, holding her physics book, I was surprised. I hardly recognized my child rolling up her sleeves in the sharp daylight, hauling enormous words into the sun slapping them together with new mortar so fast I could barely get the idea. Do you know, she asks, why water climbs a paper napkin?

She says water and the napkin both have Partial Charges. She says the word Cohesion and the word Adhesion. Her words fall into the rubble in my poor memory. I tell her I used to believe in physics.

But experience has taught me what makes water climb the paper napkin. The water loves the napkin and longs for it.

She turns her brilliant eyes on me. She is the only person who can save me. She goes to work, digging in the rubble.

You can't carry me anymore...