Take me where the light is.
Take me to the morning.
I haven’t seen the sun in thirty weeks and
I am thirsty for the daylight.
Help me find a glow.
Crack open a window, darling,
show me the stars.
Take me on a trip to the galaxies not at
all close to here, far
and away and illuminated.
Take me where the light is.
Take me to the dawn.
Endless nights I have spent here wishing
for a ray, a flicker.
Light me a candle.
Pour gasoline on everything I thought I loved
and start a fire, baby, let it all burn.
Spark something inside of me,
make me a flame.
Make me a forest fire.
Take me where the light is.
Show me it exists.
Show me it hasn’t run out. Tell me you’re
willing to go the distance, say you want to
find it, too. It’s not too late,
you tell me, to bring the flowers
back around. It’s not too late
to water them back to life, you say,
and it sounds like you’re telling me
the truth.
So the next time I say,
take me where the light is,
don’t be afraid. I am still here.
Even in all this darkness and ambiguity,
I might be broken, but I am still here.
Solecisms 