entropy — volume two

If you don't love me, Why do I love you? What is this seesaw Suspending me midair Crashing me to the ground If you don't love me, Why do I love you? Why can't I just be myself again Go play on my own Instead of paired with you, teetering

One day I'm gonna wake up And my face will be truly old No sign of youth Or who I once was No way to lie to myself And think I'm pretty I will look in the mirror At the wrinkly old woman And try to remember This day and this moment When I knew I had two choices before me Love, or life Which way will I go? I still don't know I want to make that old woman happy Satisfied with her choices Earn every one of those wrinkles And gray hairs In the coming days I want to get to the end And be able to say I both loved, and lived Even though this love Threatens to consume me Even though life is empty Without love So. What to do? I know I have to take down my Christmas tree And do some laundry Find meaning in the mundane Or at least not lose my own meaning My heart is not in it My heart is in Rome, stuck in a jar On the shelf of a man who Forgot he put it there Beating Slowly beating While my heartless self Tries to live Another cold January day Tries to solve the mystery Of what I did to myself When my face and my heart Still belonged to me

Maybe our memory Is etched in our wrinkles Like elephant hides All the days we've lived All those stalled hours I can still catch the rainbow In my skin When the sun hits my forearm just right And it is bronze Like a goddess Covered in broken light That shows me Behind my glittering eyelashes My own immortality The record of time Etched on my skin