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Britt Kusserow
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Twice Before
Put the kettle on
It's been a long, long day of wondering
what's the point of me?
Just the same old song
wrap around a cup of tea, and
I hope you know what I mean when I say:
This is where it ends.
My friendship with self-destructive plans.
Your heart clenched and unclenched in these hands.
Still falling when I know that I should land.
This is where it starts.
Love wasted trying to meet you where you aren't.
The kind of love that keeps a heart from breaking down the door.
Oh I have done this twice before.
Here and there a word
whispers through the tracks of time
just beneath my feet.
Wonder what you heard?
Wonder if it was enough
for you to finally take that leap, and
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I hope you know what I mean when I say:
This is where it ends.
My friendship with self-destructive plans.
Your heart stretched and unstretched in these hands.
Still falling when I know that I should stand.
This is where it starts.
Love large enough to meet you where you are.
The kind of love that keeps a heart from breaking down the door.
Oh, I have done this twice before.
This is how I try.
Each time before I realise my lie.
The tea goes cold, the sun may never rise.
And one more day is given to you on my mind.
This is where I end.
God knows, something else might just begin.
If I can't break the pattern, what is all this for?
Oh, I have done this.
Now I have done this thrice before.
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