Can We At Least Have This Conversation In Person
by Noise Pollution
Somewhere in my bedroom
I have kept a little box
I wish that it was empty
but it’s unfortunately not
there’s a thousand little phrases
that I have kept inside
and every time I open up
I shut the box tight
There’s a little piece of silver
hanging around her neck
I wish I could say it was unique
but a cross just ain’t that complex
I know well enough
I know she doesn’t hold it dear
it’s just a symbol of a little faith
so she doesn’t have to fear
and I don’t like it.
but I don’t have to like it.
I believe that being afraid of everything
Is what I am and who I was born to be
I have faced myself, and found myself a wreck
You turned and hung a lie around your neck
But we are all a wreck
no one has it completely together
I feel like this goal of perfection untethers
us all from ourselves and the place we were born in
my life is a mess and my heart is a storm and
I know myself.
better than I know anybody else!
Don’t fuck around, don’t tell me
I’m anything but exactly
what I know myself to be
I’m not somebody’s child, I’m just me.
And you’re you
whatever that means
I’d like to say I had an impact
but I just don’t think I believe
in much of anything
or anyone let alone you
you be yourself, by yourself
I’ll be alone, too.