It would be SO nice to be carried for a while, just, even, a few minutes, instead of being the one doing the lifting and propping up. I could really, REALLY use a real embrace. I know. Whiner. Even, I think, if I could just find someone who gets that “I am no prince, I am no saint” but who still feels with their heart that the little bit of Light & Love I am is what they want and need. “And I’ll be that, I’ll take your side; If I’m the only one – I’m used to that. I’ve been alone. I’d rather be the half of us; the least of you; the best of me. And I’ll be your prince; I’ll be your saint; I will go crashing through fences in your name. I will. I swear. I’ll be someone to fall back on. I’ll be the one who waits and for as long as you let me, I will be the one you need. I’ll be someone to fall back on. Your prince. Your saint. The one you believe you need. I’ll be … I’ll be … someone to fall back on.” Please. Please. Please.
I’m just kind of exhausted. As in, decades worth.
Every time someone asks me for a picture … I don’t know what to send … who am I?
I have no fucking idea anymore.
And, can a picture capture anything? I mean, what are they looking for? Who are they looking for?
Because no one EVER really knows you – the connections and synaptic leaps that make you –
You don’t know me. You’ll never know me. And if you did …
Look … just, please, hold me up. A little while. I just want my back rubbed and to be carried ONCE. I want someone else to do the cleaning and the cooking and the bending.
ONCE. I am exhausted. And I have won nothing. There are no prizes. Okay, Great, Just, HOLD ME UP FOR A WHILE. Pretend you love me. One. Fucking. Day. As is often the case, Jason Robert Brown says it ..