It was only three weeks ago that I was still very much in charge of a gaggle of high school sophomores. I lived in a wood box where I had no privacy or time to think for myself. The two minutes I was putting on my pajamas while the girls were still washing their faces in the bathhouse were precious. Sacred. I just want to think about myself for five minutes I pleaded to no one. And then one would be there. At the edge of my bed. Leaning on it and excitedly telling some story about the soccer game she played or how welding that silver charm went, and it wouldn't be so bad. In fact, it'd be nice. But some days I'd still clasp my hands behind my back and squeeze.
But some days I wake up in this desert, and all I can do is think about myself. And wish I didn't have to. But it's just me in my rectangle. The shower curtains are blue ships, sailing away.
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| Rainy day in MI. |
Give me somethin' to believe in, a breath from the breathin'.
So write it down. I don't think that I'll close my eyes.
'Cos lately I'm not dreamin', so what's the point of sleepin'?
And at night I've got nowhere to hide.
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