Sweet Sour

Take you by the hand and feed you
Do you really feel the need to ..talk about it?

What you know. What you feel. It's there, on the tip of your tongue like a bitter tab winking face back at you. Once you take the bite, nothing will ever be the same. Everything around you, all the bad memories and darkness will be nothing more than wisps of dust that you could simply brush away with a breath. But even more -- even better, is the chance that everything right in front of your eyes will melt into something else -- running the colors like water and turning the lights all around you into trailing sundogs forever chasing tennis balls into the night.

You want the taste.

Maybe you don't need it. Maybe you've had too much already. But oh, do you want it again.

You should get a little braver
Do us all a favor ..shout about it.

The hour is late. The bartenders are flickering the lights. The crowds are milling. You're not a kid anymore, you can't bounce back like you used to (or always thought you use to be able to). But really, what would it hurt? After all, all those bad things happened in the past. You know better now, don't you?

Tell her.

Opportunities present. The voice on the line. The silence in the air. Awkward pauses, uncomfortable silences. These moments that belong to us, between the sparks. A quiet that wishes for something to be said, but desperately wants to be the one to hear it from the other set of lips staring back at you.

It's not even that I know something you don't. You were never dumb. You know. But one of us needs to say it, and more and more I know it has to be me. Not because she won't. Not because of some old code, some shield of rules on a wall that mean something to somebody.

But because it's the truth.

Do you see the same moon that I do? Do you feel the water of the ocean between your toes as you stand on the edge of the tide? Do you know, even now after the whirlwind of all we've been through how my eyes light when I hear your voice, feel your smile, catch you laughing?

Try another spoonful
Love is to be truthful ..dance around it.

Where is the hesitation? What is this fear? That all these things will somehow stop -- that a string of words will change them, make them go away? That by saying something out loud instead of just feeling it in the air that the sparks will make a fire that will destroy more than it will illuminate?

..Isn't that always the risk?

You've stood in the char of burned things before. You know what it feels like to have been wrong even when everything inside of you wanted it to be right. You know the shakes that came, the cold lonely nights afterward. The realization that half the reason for the fire was lighting the match too soon, forcing the flame. It's only natural to question those instincts. Especially now that everything's different. Especially now that the power is back on.

Maybe I'm not saying anything just yet because I need to be sure. Maybe I just want to keep your smile right now for what it is, and not risk pouring the waters of definition over the flames all around. Maybe I don't even really know the reason. Maybe I just like the taste.

Sweet sour,
Sweet sour,
Sweet sour,
Sweet sour..

[Now Playing:  Opeth - "Heir Apparent" ]