Polaroid

I’m a reckless mistake
I’m a cold night’s intake
I’m a one night too long
I’m a come on too strong

All my life I’ve been living in the fast lane
Can’t slow down
I’m a rollin’ freight train
One more time
Gotta start all over
Can’t slow down
I’m a lone red rover

I’m a hold my cards close
I’m a wreck what I love most
I’m a first class let down
I’m a shut up sit down

I am a head case
I am the color of boom
That’s never arriving
And you are the pay raise
Always a touch out of view
And I am the color of boom

Oh
How did it come to this?
Oh
Love is a polaroid
Better in picture
But never can fill the void

I’m a midnight talker
Oh I’m an alley walker
I’m a day late two face
I’m a burn out quick pace

I am a head case
I am the color of boom
That’s never arriving
And you are the opera
Always on time and in tune
And I am the color of boom

I’m gonna get ready
For the rain to pour heavy
Let it fall, fall
Let it fall upon my head

oh
How did it come to this?
oh
Love is a polaroid
Better in picture
But never can fill the void

* * *

This song is me, at roughly 23 and a half years of age. Every word of it. I’m a “hold my cards close” – I trust people, but always with reservations, and some less than others to begin with. But somehow, sometimes, I do come on too strong, and sometimes I wreck things.

I love everything about the song. Everything. How it says confidently: I’m reckless. I’m a head case. Because we all are, I believe. We all are weird, and twisted, and head cases in our own ways. You just gotta find the people who’re the same kind of weird and twisted. The same kind of head cases. I’ve made peace with that, in fact, I like that idea.

I love how it elevates that one person. “You are the opera, always on time and in tune.” I reckon, if you were to ask that person, they wouldn’t say that they are. They would identify with this song just as strongly as you, because they think they are the same way. And they are! And yet, you are not wrong either. Love is funny that way. It blinds you towards that person, and yet makes you so much more sensitive to the flaws it itself possesses. How it tends to not be enough to fill the void. Love is a polaroid – better in picture.

Always a touch out of view.

 

 

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