I'd like to know what peace feels.
Like when anxiety doesn't compete for its time.
When feelings don't sour.
When thoughts are worth more maybe a dime.
What time should I skip to?
Five or fifty years?
I think I'd like to know what flowers grow
as a result of all these tears.
After all these discoveries...
What do I always find?
That I'm patiently waiting to know
what beauty could come from my mind.
Like a cassette forced to rewind.
You know, sometimes I think back to the past.
It's not about skipping forward,
it's what trauma made itself last.
I suck in breath at the thoughts
that I'm here listening to my rock bottoms.
And there's more then I thought.
Basements with ladders that I forced myself to know.
Forced myself to climb.
I didn't know that rock bottom down could grow.
It's counterintuitive,
I'm a better climber when worse is the fall.
And I forced myself to wonder,
does anyone hear me down here at all?
What time does my life start knowing?
What time does my life change for the best?
What time is too late,
because I didn't force myself to rest?
I wonder what peace feels.
Like when it doesn't need to be deserved.
I keep waiting for the future.
Like peace is something to be reserved.
I'm scared.
I'm afraid of how much dark escapes rock bottom,
when I can still hear these memories talk.
Cause each moment like a clock,
that each hour forces itself to chime.
I don't remember that I survived it,
just how bad it was at the time.
So each and every trigger response,
holds the hand of a version of me,
that peace desperately wants.
You're supposed to be for me,
what sun is to rock bottom.
Light in the depths of the sea.
I'd like to know what peace feels like.
How peaceful we could be.
