Drown me in the sound of the night and make me calm again.
Make me know who I am -
Make me more than the route I drive each day,
With the same lights same lines same people same wheels turning and turning and f***ing turning.
I've wrapped myself in memories of people I used to know and places I used to go and called it happiness.
And we all get on the same -
Hiding behind glossy screens and silky photos BUT KNOW THIS -
KNOW ME -
I am not afraid of my raw, of my bloody, of my aching.
I am always sure to stick my fingers out of the window,
To feel cold and hot and the invisible mountains of the wind.
I am made of bees and late July and blueberries and the wrong lyrics every time.
I am made of turning wheels and people and lines and lights and I'm made of pain and it is beautiful.
My pain is neighbors with my happiness and often invites my beauty over for a drink or two.
They sit and they talk and they say,
“Look at her! Look at our girl! The way she dances in the same way she speaks!” -
Always stumbling.