Who am I? Well who do you want me to reference? I never made the time to collect all those greats and drop them here; Where are they? I rarely found any, but I knew from the start there was something more unique to the means through which I felt us; I have begun to express. You think it’s about anyone else? Keep thinking. I spent a lot of time not being me, but by doing so I unearthed who I am. For a definition of what an ‘I’ is, you are to look to yourself.
Lose yourself in your desires, and find yourself in my grip. Tell me
to touch, tell me to move, you know me – I’m listening for you,
your mind, Your actions are not lining up! This is something to shout.
I want to believe that this is the closest I can get to your heart, the closest my fan can get to your spark, the closest my vessel can become to housing part of your flame; It’s something I aimed for – No matter the size of the blaze; Each of us has only room for one fire – One innocuous switch from a conflagration. I learned to feel from scratch. By sheer desire to understand: I created this, I tore myself open, and chased down lights I never should have; All to know what it would be like. Even though I knew the answer, I knew what I should do, I grabbed tight to the wrong choice, denounced my voice of reason, and felt so that I could know by experience.
This is not a game. I’m not babbling insanity, you’re sleeping away, and I’m calling you baby. You could at least acknowledge this like you do the Sun; When it creeps through the shades early morning – In blissful resignation you try to pretend with a blind smile that it is not truly the hour to rise and live the mortal life.
I’m fearful. I’m not that strong for what I have to deal with. You know I’m just being impatient. I keep telling you I’ve delivered, and there is no unknown here. You’ve got to wonder, Is this something I will feel for all my days? I remember not knowing I felt this way. It’s hard to imagine for more than the passing of a last train, what it was like to not have an observation of myself – To be unaware that I truly existed and indeed these things within me were screaming to be told. I think it is imperative that I tell you this all, that I am for you; But I do not accomplish this for you – Come on lay down… I know that your heart has nothing to do with your mind, but it’s a beautiful figure of speech to say you love something with all of it.
What a rose – is it time for you to bloom? I don’t recall planting you; What colors will you choose?
If you don’t keep me out of your head,
You’ll never get me out of your bed