Andrea Gibson - Angels Of The Get-Through

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From the album 'HEY GALAXY' (2018) • http://tndr.lv/2wo11Hh

Lyrics:

This year is the hardest year of your whole life.
So hard you cannot see a future most days.
The pain is bigger than anything else. 
Takes up the whole horizon
no matter where you are.  

You feel unsafe. You feel unsaved.
Your past so present you can feel your baby teeth.
Sitting on the couch, you swear your feet don’t reach the floor.

You keep remembering the first time 
you saw a bird’s nest held together by an old shoe lace 
and the scraps of a plastic bag.

You knew the home of a person 
could be built like that.
A lot of things you’d rather throw away.   

You keep worrying you’re taking up too much space.
I wish you’d let yourself be the Milky Way.  

Remember when I told you 
I was gonna become a full-time poet,
and you paid my rent for three years?
Best Friend,

angel of the get-through,
all living is storm chasing.
Every good heart has lost its roof.
Let all the walls collapse at your feet.
Scream Timber when they ask you 
how you are. 

FINE is the suckiest answer.
It is the opposite of HERE.

Here is the only place left on the map.
Here is where you learn laughter can go extinct
and come back.

I am already building a museum
for every treasure you unearth in the rock 
bottom.  Holy vulnerable cliff.
God mason, heart heavier
than all the bricks.
Say this is what the pain made of you:
an open open open road. 
An avalanche of feel it all.

Don’t let anyone ever tell you
you are too much. Or 
it has been too long.

Whatever guards the feet
on the bridge of the song,
you are made of that thing.
That unbreakable note.
That photograph 
of you at five-years old.
The year you ran away from school
because you wanted to go home.
You are almost there.

You are the same compass you have always been.
You are the same friend who never left my side 
during my worst year. You caught every tantrum
I threw with your bare hands, chucked it back 

at the blood moon, said, It’s ok.  Everyone’s survival 
looks a little bit like death sometimes. 

I wrote a poem called “Say Yes” 
while I was cursing your name 
for not letting me go. 

Best friend, this is what we do. 
We gather each other up. 
We say, The cup is half 

yours and half mine. We say, 
Alone is the last place you will ever be. 

We say, Tonight let’s stay inside 
reading Pema Chödrön
while everyone else is out on the town.

Pema will say, “Only to the degree that we expose ourselves
over and over to annihilation
can that which is indestructible in us be found.”

You’ll say, Pema is so wise.
And I’ll say, Yes she is, And we are too.

Angels of the get-through.  
We are too

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