I remember this place

Where it begins, and where you leave it,
that is a question
that’s more than coordinate systems can say

Oh brittle amalgam, oh unhappy mongrel,
how I long to hold you
in your contradiction and your size.

These are overwhelming times and territories that aren’t on the map
Visions of horizon lines get lost in the creases that fall in our laps
But I remember this place

Seersucker shorts, Cincinnati, Ohio
Coney Island in Southwest
and a diner off US-15

A seat at the counter
for those who stood up at Woolworths
I strain to hear those whispers in the same place

Where you stand

They never told you there’d be days like this
From the moment you wake up, until your head hits the pillow
There’s an aching in your gut because you know that things aren’t right

And it feels like you’re failing
And it feels like we’re lost
And it feels like it’s never enough, and it feels like it comes at a cost

Oh I’m still surprised
And I feel betrayed
That the stories of those who came before bring not strength but anxiety

Does it cut you like a knife?
Because it chills me to the bone,
to feel the world’s so big and we are all alone.
We all do the best we can,
and I hope a little more,
and believe we’ll meet it where we stand.
Where you stand.

I never thought I could be something more.

And I know that it’s complicated.
And you’re left with more questions than at the start.
Please believe there’s a break in this breaking.
And know you’ll meet it where you stand.