life used to be life-like
now it’s more like showbiz
i wake up in the night
and i don’t know where the bathroom is
don’t know what sky i’m under
i wake up at night
and i don’t have the will to wonder
and everyone has a skeleton
and a closet to keep it in
and you’re mine
and every song has a you
a you that the singer sings to
you’re it this time
baby, you’re it this time
when i need to wipe my face
i use the back of my hand
i like to take up space
just because i can
and i use my dress
to wipe up my drink
you know i care less and less
what people think
you know you are so lame
you always disappoint me
it’s kinda like a running joke
but it’s really not funny
i just want you to live up to
the image of you i created
i see you and i’m so unsatisfied
i see you and i dilate
so i’ll walk the plank
yeah i’ll jump with a smile
if i’m gonna go down
i’m gonna do it with style
and you won’t see me surrender
you won’t hear me confess
cuz you left me with nothing
yeah but i have worked with less
and i learn every room long enough
to make it to the door
then i hear it click shut behind me
every key works differently
and i forget every time
and the forgetting defines me
yeah, that’s what defines me
and i wake up in the night
in some big hotel bed
my hands grope for the light
my hands grope for my head
and you know the world is my oyster
but the road is my home
and i know that i am better
i am better
i am better off alone
{ani ~ dilate}
I can’t make it through a single New Years without thinking about the fact that New Years and leaving have always been connected in my life. I moved from Alabama to Washington State (talk formative moments) when I was 11, on January 1. I moved to London on January 1st. Two years ago I was left (hence my dedication above, which since then has always been my song in that person’s honor); and last year I was leaving someone I was just beginning to love (and though I still love her now, it wasn’t that kind of leaving, it was painful to go just then)…
I want to write the words i will rise down on a piece of paper and carry it around with me. It gets hardest to remember this time of year, as if the pervasive darkness weren’t enough, all my New Years memories are lonely, heartbroken, or involve saying long-term goodbyes.
If I have one New Years resolution this year, it’s to spend my next New Years staying.
If I have two, the other one is to forget (finally) this song; and the painful scars from the person whose image it conjures up. Let me grow back into that person who opened up so honestly, so trustingly, so naturally; let me grow back into that person who felt love instead of fear; who believed she couldn’t get hurt. Let me get that back. That’s worth fighting for; and the person who took it away from me certainly doesn’t deserve any more dedications.
