second intermission

anticipation

you know the third act

small talk drops out of the play

you're standing in the lobby

tightening your tourniquet

waiting for it

waiting for it

and then the bell sounds

and the lights flash

and there's all these questions milling around

and there's no time to ask



no bliss for little miss leading

she's learning about bleeding

but what is love if not exquisite?

our only saving grace or is it?

and somewhere inside your iris

blooms the reflection of my surprise

as you stroll past every last do not enter

and touch me at my epicenter

and the bell sounds

and the lights flash

and there's all these questions milling around

and there's no time to ask



i'm always trying to get there

i never really get there

to that quiet place where i accept myself

instead i'm deep inside some high school

locker room no clothing

popping the zits of my self-loathing under fluorescent lights

and the bell sounds

and the lights flash

and there's all these questions milling around

and you're too ashamed to ask



second intermission

anticipation

you know the third act

small talk drops out of the play

you're standing in the lobby

tightening your tourniquet

waiting for it

waiting for it