second intermission   anticipation   you know the third act    small talk drops out of the play   you're standing in the lobby   tightening your tourniquet   waiting for it   waiting for it   and then the bell sounds   and the lights flash   and there's all these questions milling around   and there's no time to ask       no bliss for little miss leading   she's learning about bleeding   but what is love if not exquisite?   our only saving grace or is it?   and somewhere inside your iris   blooms the reflection of my surprise   as you stroll past every last do not enter   and touch me at my epicenter   and the bell sounds   and the lights flash   and there's all these questions milling around   and there's no time to ask       i'm always trying to get there   i never really get there   to that quiet place where i accept myself   instead i'm deep inside some high school   locker room no clothing   popping the zits of my self-loathing under fluorescent lights   and the bell sounds   and the lights flash   and there's all these questions milling around   and you're too ashamed to ask       second intermission   anticipation   you know the third act    small talk drops out of the play   you're standing in the lobby   tightening your tourniquet   waiting for it   waiting for it