The World's Largest Ball of Paint

i guess it’s been a while since last i saw the stars  

it’s easy to forget how small we are  

i begged alexandria to keep us in the glimmer of her eye 

i wanna be something to someone long after i die 

 

but im starting to think it’s okay  

if i'm simply a layer in the largest ball of paint  

cover me up, that’s okay  

i can still be worth something if i'm not display 

to the north stars i look to today 

i love you 

to the north stars adrift and away 

do you feel the gravity in my old turns of phrase? 

  

do you remember,  

growing up together?  

painting layer after layer  

do you still think that it matters  

once it’s all covered up? 

do you still think that- 

 

somewhere there’s a boy with a scar split his eyebrow in half  

there’s a backseat crammed in 5 with our lincoln log laps  

there’s a bottle of wine with a screw top cap  

there’s a far-fetched plan and a scratched-out map  

 

there’s a church basement where sugar cubes melt on our tongue  

there’s a ghost light that glows like a substitute sun  

there’s a guitar that i don’t even know how to strum  

there’s a person and they just might be the one  

 

somewhere there’s a room  

with glitter in the cracks of the floor 

lingerie on the windows, kiss stains on the door  

there’s a girl hellbent on never loving again 

but there’s also a girl meeting her first friends 

 

i’m mourning missed connections  

in the morning missing breakfast  

out the door, pretend i’m fine  

i’m not traveling back in time 

to the moment when i lived in the pockets of these kids who i might not see again 

 

hard to grieve a gradual end  

 

so it’s layer after layer my friend  

i keep looking towards lake michigan  

for my north star shift, my true north split  

keep looking towards lake michigan 

what do you know?  

what did you learn on your angel crusade? 

who will remember the hell you raised?  

i will remember your grace  

while i'm here for a second, then i'm gone again  

we're here for a second, then we’re gone again  

hard to grieve his gradual-