Blue Lips

I've seen a lot of things.

I've seen what loneliness can do to a mind.
And the toll death has on other people's bodies.
I've seen smiles bigger than Jupiter,
and tears heavier than holding the ocean in your arms.

I've heard a lot.
I've heard 2am cries and 2pm stresses.
I've heard engines running in closed ribs,
letting carbon monoxide seep every where.
And I've heard the kind of crashes that put a dent in your stomach
that can't ever be fixed however rich you are.

I've tried a lot.
I've tried swimming through days and weeks but my ears can't seem to handle the pressure.
I've tried working night shifts but how silent it gets makes me nervous.
And I've tried blankets of hellos,
but no one wants to know you if you alone can't keep their attention longer than 30 minutes

My point is, I gave up all my oxygen weeks ago to pay rent.
Because every breath was bringing me closer to the day my father could die.
Every breath I took was taking me farther from knowing how to be whole again.
And every breath I took kept forming these shapes inside me that never learned to be anything.
And even though I've seen a lot and heard plenty.
My lips were turning blue.



Papa said it was good I'm trying new things,
but he doesn't know the half of it.

We all want to feel safe but not too safe.
We all want to be able to breathe on our own,
but that's not what happened.
The only ones left listening were the strangers.
The ones who didn't want to work to know you.
Then you were there.
Because of you I got my breath back.


And I could cry enough tears to tsunami this whole planet,
but we'd still be standing here.
And I'd still be stuck not knowing how to thank you.