GRAY OR BLUE SONG LYRICS
by
JAYMAY
I feel so helpless now, my guitar is not around
And I’m struggling with the xylophone to make these feelings sound
And I’m remembering you singing and bringing you to life
And It’s raining out the window and today it looks like night
You haven’t written to me in a week I’m wondering why that is
Are you too nervous to be lovers, friendships ruined with just one kiss
I watched you very closely I saw you look away
Your eyes are either gray or blue I’m never close enough to say
But your sweatshirt says it all with the hood over your face
I can’t keep staring at your mouth without wondering how it tastes
I’m with another [girl]; [she’s] asleep, I’m wide awake
And [she] tried to win my heart, but it’s taken time
I know the shape of your hands because I watch them when you talk
And I know the shape of your body ‘cause I watch it when you walk
And I want to know it all but I’m giving you the lead
So go on, go on and take it, don’t fake it, shake it
Don’t second guess your feelings you were right from the start
And I notice [he’s] your lover, but [he’s] nowhere near your heart
This city is for strangers, like the sky is for the stars
But I think it’s very dangerous if we do not take whats ours
And I’m winning you with words because I have no other way
I’d love to look into your face without your eyes turning away
Last night I watched you sing because a person has to try
And I walked home in the rain because a person cannot lie
do do do do do,
do do do do do,
do do do do do,
do do do do do,
do do do do do,
do do do do do,
do do do do do
lost and thrown away.
i just spent a sold ten minutes in the shower thinking about this.
and i’m a beer or three in..
but i now get it. i understand completely.
rock
the small satisfactions in life. they’re the best.
today was hard.
i’m awkward. and i felt physically uncomfortable.
but worse than that was everyone asking how mom was doing.
and worse than that was when they asked how I am doing.
i can handle it. i can, really. but don’t ask me to talk about my feelings.
let me handle them my way.
i appreciate you telling me you’re here if i need you.
but what i need is to leave the house some days and not thing about how hard this is.
not think about how much more she’s going to suffer.
i don’t need to know the statistics you looked up,
or what her chance of a long remission is.
i don’t want to hear it.
i know it. i’ve been to the doctors office. i’ve talked to them personally.
i’m handling it.
i’m fine.
stop talking my ear off, you’re upsetting me.
stop asking me to call you.
i don’t want to talk about it.
i don’t want to think about it.
don’t give me the pity eyes.
don’t offer me desserts, or sweets, or food.
it doesn’t help.
don’t talk me into eating food i don’t even taste.
i hate this.
i hate every fucking second of this.
i know it’s only going to get worse before it gets better.
but this is hard.
you gain tolerance for pain.
feel it with new levels of intensity.
today.
today when my mother asked me to put a pony tail in, and a chunk of hair fell out while i was doing it.
that was painful.
truly. deeply. painful.
it’s pathetic, isn’t it?
that among all of the other horrible things.
i can not stand to see her balding spots.
it pangs with fresh anger and hurt and sadness. every time.
so she jokes about it.
and i say nothing.
and she calls me her rock.
and i say nothing.
how can you be someone’s rock if you can’t even hold yourself together?
what a strange thing.
i don’t often feel this.
this feeling i’m feeling.
this way that i feel.
it’s not common.
in retro spec it’s not special.
it will come and go.
i will probably miss it once its gone.
but for now i’ll bitch about it.
moan and groan. and pretend i’m not loving every second.
i wonder though.
because as myself i always have to.
do you know how conflicted feeling i am.
i have so much negativity every day.
every single day i worry. and wonder if this is the last day.
is this the last day my mother will smile.
tomorrow, will tomorrow be the day the chemo really starts kicking her ass.
i’m so afraid. and yet i am distracted.
for hours at a time. i don’t worry at all.
how coincidental. right? or maybe not at all.
i keep losing track of who i’ve told and who doesn’t know.
for instance at work i dropped the ‘yeah, when my house burnt down ’ and ‘moms chemo is going okay’ in the same conversation to a girl who knew of neither. it’s exhausting. i should wear a shirt or something.
i should do alot of things.
i’ll do none of them.
exhaustion.
closing sunday night 4-1.
opening monday 10-1.
closing monday 5-1.
opening tuesday 10-2.
closing tuesday 5-1.
opening wednesday 10-5.
what the fuck. can i please. please spend more than 9 hours away from work?
food for thought
if you argued mercilessly with me, about sex not being all about the orgasm,
and how it shouldn’t be only worth it if i orgasm..
why on earth was it always over the second you did?
why was it acceptable for me to continue on after or more often without, but it was immediately finished the second you got your rocks? why did it end so many times to me laying there unpleased while you went to sleep? or pretended to sleep?
