space above the full
have i been asking to get better?
or just asking for distractions?
because sitting here alone
i feel so empty in that space above the full
i can dive down in my cup
and hold my breath
down to the depths of joy
i swim back up to that space that no one's ever been
because if somebody could stay
up all that way with me
i don't believe it would be quite as empty as it seems to be
my brain begins to boil with small bubble thoughts
"i'm being stupid" "just snap out of it jodi"
"it's better this way, move on young lady... start wanting something else"
but the bubbles rise to the top
and all that's left is empty
and at least i can breathe
even if this hot steam is pushing its way inside me
pushing on these walls of my brain
they all just want to leave
but i hold them in and my head aches
and i do not want to take medicine
please don't give me a distraction
i'd rather sit here... and investigate these bouncing particles
you can read this like an article
while i'm removing articles of clothing for no one
and getting my only warmth from lifeless blankets
dreams creep, dreams live in the steam
rising out of the full
and all the heat it creates
when i mix kisses on your face
with a fast pace
and enough space for 3 days of traveling to take place
my head aches
the last thing i want is your sympathy
you'd be giving it against your will
you'd be giving... and giving...
however you will, and not getting what i'm getting
we're not forgetting anything
i've had a glimpse of what is beautiful
in the vividness of sobriety
and what is meaningful is left in that window of time
the train has passed, great while it lasted
here both of us are, outside
and we can always look in
but here and now it will not be how it has been
previously
not again. not again.
i don't want to want anyhing
and as long as i'm not asking
you won't be giving
so i'm floating on the top of half full
right on that line
and the air that i'm breathing is empty
can't tell you one thing you could give me
because i'd want it to be true...
all we've got is tried.
or just asking for distractions?
because sitting here alone
i feel so empty in that space above the full
i can dive down in my cup
and hold my breath
down to the depths of joy
i swim back up to that space that no one's ever been
because if somebody could stay
up all that way with me
i don't believe it would be quite as empty as it seems to be
my brain begins to boil with small bubble thoughts
"i'm being stupid" "just snap out of it jodi"
"it's better this way, move on young lady... start wanting something else"
but the bubbles rise to the top
and all that's left is empty
and at least i can breathe
even if this hot steam is pushing its way inside me
pushing on these walls of my brain
they all just want to leave
but i hold them in and my head aches
and i do not want to take medicine
please don't give me a distraction
i'd rather sit here... and investigate these bouncing particles
you can read this like an article
while i'm removing articles of clothing for no one
and getting my only warmth from lifeless blankets
dreams creep, dreams live in the steam
rising out of the full
and all the heat it creates
when i mix kisses on your face
with a fast pace
and enough space for 3 days of traveling to take place
my head aches
the last thing i want is your sympathy
you'd be giving it against your will
you'd be giving... and giving...
however you will, and not getting what i'm getting
we're not forgetting anything
i've had a glimpse of what is beautiful
in the vividness of sobriety
and what is meaningful is left in that window of time
the train has passed, great while it lasted
here both of us are, outside
and we can always look in
but here and now it will not be how it has been
previously
not again. not again.
i don't want to want anyhing
and as long as i'm not asking
you won't be giving
so i'm floating on the top of half full
right on that line
and the air that i'm breathing is empty
can't tell you one thing you could give me
because i'd want it to be true...
all we've got is tried.


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