Cerulean City

Just this morning, out on my steps
It was raining
I couldn’t muster up the energy to go back inside to keep from getting wet
Making excuses, I know the truth is
The glue that holds me down is feeling unwell
Contemplating months spent hating myself
Not content, but somewhat comfortable with self-contempt
Maybe life isn’t broken, but just bent
I’m not convinced, something’s gotta fucking give
And that’s when it hit me, this house doesn’t have to be haunted anymore
Open up the doors, let the breeze in
The light at the end of the tunnel is the experience that we all seem to funnel
Back into the bodies that we have rented
Life doesn’t always make sense
But you’re the only thought that does
This house doesn’t have to be haunted anymore
Our house doesn’t feel at all haunted anymore
Life doesn’t always make sense
But you’re the only thought that does
I don’t know if you remember
We were half asleep in my bed
And I said, «One day you’d be asked if you would marry me»
And barely coherently, under your breath, you said, «I would»
I’m not sure you even know that I heard, but those two words resonated harder
than anything
And once again gave me a reason to wake up
In the morning