I'm betting on temper tantrums stacked high against possibilities and people betting on you using your ears instead of your heart, closing your eyes and shutting out the world when it doesn't spin your way, fashioning your lips into weaponry and ignoring the poltergeist instead of exorcising it, writing lettings about magnanimous impregnation and stuffing them deep into my pocket while I bet on temper tantrums, my words never lie, my words will never lie, emotion-filled hard drives uninstalled and looped endlessly like beautifully delayed feedback controlled with knobs and sentenced to death when it gets too loud for you, I Am The Mile You Walk In Shoes You Haven't Worn Yet, it's simpler than you think when you shut out the sounds, our church is warm and inviting so why wouldn't you build it in the arctic instead of the jungle, Joni Mitchell singing her single while an entire continent vibrates with understanding and what earthquakes feel, I need you as an orchestra heard from inside the pit and not as the sounds of a phonograph heard relentlessly flickering through the breeze from a distant source.
you're a christmas that never comes, you're the reason for dreams, I could bury this so deep and still be afraid of it.
don't try looking for me. just find me already.
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