The Tower
One who survives
by making the lives
of others worthwhile,
she's coming apart,
right before my eyes.
One who depends
on the services she renders
to those who come knocking,
she sees too clearly
what she can't be,
but understanding defies...
She says, "I need not to need,
or else a love with intuition,
someone who reaches out to my weakness
and won't let go.
I need not to need,
I've always been the tower,
but now I feel like I'm the flower,
trying to bloom in snow."
She turns out the light
anticipating nightfall
come tenderly around her
and watches the dusk,
but words won't come.
She carries the act,
so convincingly in fact,
that sometimes she believes it,
that she can be happy the way things are,
be happy with the things she's done.
And yet, I need not to need,
or else a love with intuition,
someone who reaches out to my weakness
and won't let go.
I need not to need,
I've always been the tower,
but now I feel like I'm the flower,
trying to bloom in snow.
Reach out, hold back--
where is safety?
Reach out, hold back--
where is the one who can save me?
Where is the one?
I need not to need,
or else a love with intuition,
someone who reaches out to my weakness
and won't let go.
I need not to need,
I've always been the tower,
but now I feel like I'm the flower,
trying to bloom in snow,
the danger and the power,
the friend and foe.