The Moment it Comes Undone

I drove down the road with no street lights
to see if I could remember a memory.
Turns out the body holds secrets
and the mind just sets them free.

But this isn't about you and me; this is about cars.
Driving.
Moving.
Escaping this thing called reality.

She says I'm not who I say I am,
just a legend in my own mind.
She says it ain't possible for a girl
to live so many lives.

Maybe I don't sleep as much as you
but if sand in my shoes aren't proof
I've been with Moses
then you can go build your own desert
and make judgments on yourself.

But this isn't about me and her; this is about the truth.
Living.
Feeling.
Breathing. Dying inside these walls.

This is the final moment, the crux of the show.
we fight back the tears with proud faces
when exasperations grow.
She wants to know "how long it takes to get over it"
Like we're waiting on melting snow.

But I've walked the desert with Moses
And some never make it that far.
I've got blisters and tear-filled stories
if you really want to know.

But this isn't about your time tables
as fire spreads on my tongue
This is about surviving,
in the moments it comes undone.

She says I'm not really a writer
like I'd never stand a chance
and writes me off with the mortgage
without a second glance.

For this is my journey with Moses
As we wipe our sand-filled eyes.
We'd seen the truth, we've heard the people
We see them for their lies.

Even the length of the darkest desert
was crossed by more than one.
and the reason it takes us longer
is the moments it comes undone.

It's okay to go to sleep now.
It's finally after 3.