belle&sebastian.

i'm in that moment
when you speak
with the intentions
of saint peter's cross,
and people can only
see the sin.
and so what if
sin was my original
intention,
the fuel to the fire.
so what if i started
so largely,
but i only want to
hold the candle now.
i'll go until i can't go anymore,
but you can't see everything.

there is a wall,
and i'm not a fan
of the time.
what is the time?


i guess that sometimes
it feels like everytime
i try to spread my wings
and throw myself into
the air,
i end up hitting the
ground just a little harder
than the time before.
and then i stay there
and make believe
that you're here
with me.

just give me a moment.

in just a moment,
i'll jump back in like
i never met the ground;
never smelled the earth.
that i never knew the
beauty of that inverted cross.
and after the storm,
i'll realize it was only
just a dream.
the nights have always
pushed up the day,
and i can't really run anymore.


met with the beauty
of the burning suns,
and the cross never hung so high.
watching the birth of
the accident.
in that moment when you
realized that i was happening,
and you couldn't stop it.
no matter how mad he was.
you got to transcend the ocean,
and i got a grain of sand.
and you prayed to that cross,
for humility and grace.
and every day, you ask me
to step back and see the
silver linings.
you never rebounded from it,
and it's my job to do so now.
where are the clouds, sunshine?

i got lost, once.
found myself in something like a forest.
each tree was turned wrong-side-up,
each with a stroke of luck.
i'm running, and i'm out of breath.
the sin is chasing, running after death.
but isn't that what we all do?
run, and run, and run,
chasing the end?
because when was the last
time you slowed down,
and just let go?
i can't do it, either,
and i don't care to try anymore.

i'll hurry to my death.
live fast and die hard.
with the cross of saint peter in hand,
we are not the same.