i have been both lover and beloved, unrequited
disp*ssionate and quiet around you.
and when i am old, when the skin under my eyes
stretches to wrap around the things i’ve seen,
what will it mean that i didn’t take a chance on you?
didn’t get lost in a glance from you?
this fragile balance, this delicate palace where one left
puts two people on two different paths.
but if i hold out my hands to you
it doesn’t make it right, it doesn’t make it right.
i want more for my life than my name in lights,
my name in lights!
i’ve read books and understood them,
understood the looks you gave me
when i sent you a letter from bennington
telling you that i couldn’t leave his grave without a poem of my own
and all i wrote about was having you and not having you.
i want more for my life than my name in lights!