Lighthouse

I've come to my senses, but I don't know where to go
I just know it's getting old
Losing here

And I know all the answers, you don't have to fix this
But I am so new to this
Just being here

And they took all the parts of me I wasn't ready to lose
And I wondered if I'd ever wake up as somebody new

Tired, run me down
Run me in the ground
I will build a lighthouse there somehow

April ran me down
Left me looking at the backside of a pig hurt
At the end of the month, mud thick as thighs was smeared across my eyelids
And lip corners, and all over my spirit
So tired, this voice I am losing is both a red and white flag
That tells a more honest story than my mouth does

I'm tired of the discipline it takes to say no
Of the daily quits and the daily asks
Each message, a jagged skip
And whatever groove I had finally slid into
Tired of being a thread, always pulling through
Of showing up to a keyboard, unimpressed by anything I have to offer

And I understand
I, too, am unimpressed by my own biography
Tired of wanting to call my way through skin
Until I am an indistinct skeleton, slinking out unnoticed
Perhaps then, I wouldn't be held the fire of my own splintered dream boards
Shrink me tiny enough to escape failure by anyone of my hundred definitions
Help me believe that this art was only ever an experiment

I'm tired of doing my best
Of telling the sugar to let me go
Of being looked at like the next shiny trophy
A feeling like a ladder rung, like an empty promised land
I'm tired of what it takes to get clear
Of how heavy the fighting heart weighs in
Of the "not quite, almost, just wait here"

Of the questioning of my own aloneness
Of my own enoughness, of my own too-muchness
April reminds me that I am a six-figure grave
And who ever taught me what that would mean?
Where is the triangle of blame that promise me relief one day?
Where is the relief in any of this one day?

And I've played every angle, and I've gotten good at it
So why am I losing it?
My sanity

Now I guess that my life wasn't built on my record to win
All that's left is a prayer on my breath
I'm enough as I am

I'm tired, run me down
Run me in the ground
I will build a lighthouse there somehow

Tired, run me down
Run me in the ground
I will build a lighthouse there somehow, ooh-ooh-ooh

The truth is, I am only bothered when I think
Or I know I have completely lost control
My reputation, the feels, the knowing
I have chased and begged them home, even in my dreams
But I never learned to last so
So I'm doing my best for the thousandth time
To actually let it go

And anyone who's ever eventually nailed crow pose
Or finally hit five miles knows
That repetition expecting a different result isn't always insanity
Sometimes that's just the way of growth

I am flaking mud
Really, I am left in no one's dust
I am miles behind and I am still winning
I will never forget my own name
I am letting us all off my hooks
I am showing up, even when other people don't
I am unlearning how to be tough
And my fine hit curled Kings rarely dry pretty
But how refreshing to love myself however I become

I am not forcing resolve, because I'm not sure that's the way life folds
But I am reconciling every version of myself
Because I want them to meet one day
And have a good laugh at how right we swore we were
I am not made of formulas, so I can no longer respond on your Q
I'm gonna start asking questions that may make me seem slow
But I am labelling that a good four-letter word
And I figured out that two pieces of dark chocolate a day
Are not adding more inches to my waist
Than nearly three decades of stress I asked this body to stomach

The manner has come enough to know that I will not be buried alive
And I've never watched, but I can tell I am beautiful when I'm writing
And I know there's a humble man saving the rest of his fourth of July's
For my firework giddy applause
And I don't know where he is, but I know he doesn't play hide-and-seek
And I know I wanna tell him that I haven't been waiting
I've been creating a hotel of stories he can thank for the shameless, crooked smile I've become

Tired, run me down
Run me in the ground
I will build a lighthouse there somehow

Tired, run me down
Run me in the ground
I will build a lighthouse there somehow, ooh-ooh-ooh

I am flaking mud
I am waking up
Praise, April is gone and I think May was a new sun
And I've never loved the sound of crumble as I do now
Under all that earth, I got soft, somehow

I got a second draft biography
It says I'm not much of a sailor, but I've built some sort of boat
If you judge me by my crew, I am thoroughly good
If you judge me by results, I am a two-time world champion of facing what I feared the most

I have been published by several renowned atlases
For my work repairing lighthouses using only sound
You'll know they're mine when you see them
How the lights loop haphazardly
Like they're completely out of control

I will build a lighthouse there somehow