summertide: the time for healing (title track)

drove on the 89 going 120, 

now I feel my face through the windshield.

what is therapeutic if I feel I need more therapy because of it?

am I not supposed to get what I want?

tired, but anxiousness pries open the eyelids at night 

now the insomnia makes everyday unproductive

and, this house is not a home to me

instead, the ruins of gallopoli I cannot survive in

and, with my old friends, there’s too many seasons of us

every new episode, I desire more to be written out

as a result, who do I have left?

isolation knocks again, and the fear of abandonment eats me alive

am I nothing more than trash to be disposed?

self efficient, independent, but the automation gears need grease

who else is gonna ask if I’m okay except for me?

it’s hard to admit I’ve been stumbling a little.

I’m so self conscious- if I verbalize my fears, it’ll double their control

wish you caught me on a different day

when it was easier to be happy

now I fear the summer and freedom can only last so long.

shouldn’t I be recklessly indulging in suntans and seltzer drinking?

and, instead wait until the snow for counsel?

postpone the healing, because the wounds won’t seem to worsen,

neglect the internal bleeding because my skin is undamaged

but, why do I fear how long the heat will be out for?

I have time before the cold returns,

and the saltwater from the beach will heal the wounds.

I love life. 

my breath still speaks that life is beautiful until there’s no more,

and that fortitude keeps me from sinking.

mending and pleasure can coexist.

while I am recreational, I’ll reaffirm that I was never alone, worthless, and I am deserving of happiness

and I’ll learn to admit that it’s okay to say you need help, both to yourself and to the people around you.

this next project is gonna go crazy. I love y’all.

-a.