I thought I'd write dark poetry
to take all my darkness and put it into line
but I didn't want my actual self to be dark, just the words.
I thought I'd take my cynicism and lay it out bare
but I didn't want to actually be cynical
I didn't want to actually not care.
Yet here I am brooding like a fool.
I thought I'd tell a white lie
to take all my darkness and cover it with a sheet
but I didn't want it to be the undertaker of my word, just a shield.
I thought I'd take my honesty and stir it in a pot
but I didn't want to cook it completely,
I would not be able to eat it.
So here I sit and nibble on the truth.
I thought I'd get a blue mood
to take all my rhythms and groove them into the dawn
but I didn't want to get a hangover, just to hang out.
I thought I'd sit by the window with my hand in my chin
but not let myself go completely.
I thought I'd let my imagination run
but I wasn't going for Olympic gold.