I Do Not Want to Go
thoughts running through my head like a mantra,
like a child does when picking petals off a daisy:
he likes me, he likes me not,
he likes me, he likes me not,
I don't want to go, but I don't want to live,
I don't want to go, but I don't want to live
but just as a child's question is unanswered, as they are unsatisfied by the result, so am I
for what is scarier, knowing they like you, knowing I want to stay, or the opposite?
I am searching for answers in a clover patch no bigger than my hand,
and finding a needle in a haystack would be far easier than my four leaf clover
tonight my brain is hazy, clouded by alcohol and cigarettes
as I ash out my fourth, fifth, sixth one of the night, smoke billowing into the air,
I look to the bungalow with the red door
inside my partners are laying, my beautiful, beautiful partners, curled together waiting for me
as I enter the room, I feel love:
filling me from looking at them looking at me
two sets of gorgeous eyes, dark brown and hazeled green,
and I feel like I have found my answer:
I do not want to go
but the depression that's settled deep into my bones is not easy to escape,
even though their love for me and mine for them runs deep,
I am scared that it is not enough
love has not been enough in the past.
fireworks filling the air, joyous screams and whoops from neighbouring houses
but I am running onto the road, my youngest sister screaming from the sidewalk,
my best friend tossing me over his shoulder to carry me back to safety.
there are no roads for me to turn to and the trains stopped hours ago
I am safe,
but safety is relative and I cannot see what tomorrow will bring,
but I can only hope it will be better than tonight.
because I do not want to go
I think
I hope
like a child does when picking petals off a daisy:
he likes me, he likes me not,
he likes me, he likes me not,
I don't want to go, but I don't want to live,
I don't want to go, but I don't want to live
but just as a child's question is unanswered, as they are unsatisfied by the result, so am I
for what is scarier, knowing they like you, knowing I want to stay, or the opposite?
I am searching for answers in a clover patch no bigger than my hand,
and finding a needle in a haystack would be far easier than my four leaf clover
tonight my brain is hazy, clouded by alcohol and cigarettes
as I ash out my fourth, fifth, sixth one of the night, smoke billowing into the air,
I look to the bungalow with the red door
inside my partners are laying, my beautiful, beautiful partners, curled together waiting for me
as I enter the room, I feel love:
filling me from looking at them looking at me
two sets of gorgeous eyes, dark brown and hazeled green,
and I feel like I have found my answer:
I do not want to go
but the depression that's settled deep into my bones is not easy to escape,
even though their love for me and mine for them runs deep,
I am scared that it is not enough
love has not been enough in the past.
fireworks filling the air, joyous screams and whoops from neighbouring houses
but I am running onto the road, my youngest sister screaming from the sidewalk,
my best friend tossing me over his shoulder to carry me back to safety.
there are no roads for me to turn to and the trains stopped hours ago
I am safe,
but safety is relative and I cannot see what tomorrow will bring,
but I can only hope it will be better than tonight.
because I do not want to go
I think
I hope