Architects

We get so heavy, and we've gotta let it breathe

My night proves sleepless

I watch a live birth before I go to work

Is that you smiling?

I thought I knew what I was doing

'til I watched the teeth shoot through in every beam

We get so heavy, and we've gotta let it breathe

My loose end's leafless

The Doctor feels the spin just when he stands

That's why he's smiling

Then I'm reminded why he's crying

I join in; I'm completely fine with it

We get so heavy and we've gotta let it breathe

Preserve the image

Of the last vibrant seconds I was clean

And I'm still smiling

Each notebook's in a drawer

Thousands of words do what these pictures should've done

Black

Done up like a doll

Done up like the laminated cover

Of my rite-of-passage/social-death-knell

Hide in gravy-boat eyes

In flying-saucer midnight

Bounce, back and forth, up and down

Echo-chamber dread

You hollow out my head

I'm swallowed by my bed

You're resting on my shelf

You're kissing me goodnight

You're wishing me good morning

Now tell me

Do we look anything like a mirror?

I wake up amazed everyday, that in spite of every shortcoming, of every misstep and halfstep, and every debased covenant, and every ripped contract behind that backs of my makers, I'll always be fine. It's like what Ms. Magnusson said, in the darkness of the Guided Study room, pulling me out of my own huddled mass just to tell me I'll always be fine. It's so simple, that after all this, it seems sick, but I'll always be fine. As long as you stay, perched with me on this Earth, waiting to be lifted, I'll always be fine

Now tell me

Do we look anything like a mirror?