If you could do it again by Engy Essam Lyrics
my throat is clogged up with
these thoughts i’ve deemed too
weak to utter
the pride i’ve been priding myself
for swallowing has
crawled its way up,
stuck to the center of my tongue
and smothered it with doubt
i haven’t been one to talk,
but i dream of telling you how
i’m a hopeless writer
driving myself to regret
i know you thought me to be strong,
but my thoughts aren’t so brave
love is a laser quest,
on repeat
i keep losing trying not to lose,
i dream of screaming these words;
if you could do it all again,
this time with style,
if i said
i promise, i’ll do better
i’d entwine my hands with yours,
sink my roots into your skin,
ink my poems with your thoughts,
i’d rewrite the entirety of my awful childhood,
this time with hope,
i promise, i’ll rush home and call you
this time,
have you pour your existence into me like a soul returning to its body,
tell you all about how it felt like there was nobody else out there.
i’d keep the misery and the pain
of the confusing nature of childhood,
i’d keep it all,
dip it with your words,
and sink into you like i‘m sure i can keep myself afloat.
i’ll keep my heart on my sleeve,
rip out the paper one
i’ll be real and gentle,
i’ll master both arts
like my heart would split in half if i didn’t
i’ll love you kind,
honest to love
i’d love you enough for your soul
to feel it through lives
now i’m only asking because i need to;
if you could do it all again,
this time,
with the promise of
knowing me,
i’d speak out my mind like it is spotless,
i’d go out my mind trying to convince you that my love is,
i’d love you over
and over
i’d let it seep all over,
i’d listen to the subtle hints in your voice,
instantly write down the songs you play
on the palm of my hand,
make sure it isn’t sweaty,
rush home and write a movie
of everything you said that sounded like
it should never be forgotten,
i’d tell you every thing i love about you,
five times a day,
you’re a religion i would not tire of,
you’re a mosque i’m not afraid to enter,
you’re a god one could cry in the arms of,
you’re a poem too holy to be rewritten,
you, you novel of a person,
i’d list it to you
every day till you’ve grown weary.
at least then it’d be of the routine,
and nothing else.
darling, sometimes i wake up in a cold sweat
all shaken up and scared to death,
all because i remember that there are gardens inside me that will grow
that i will never be able to show
to you
i will never be able to tell you how
i was walking down your street the other day,
and i realized that my biggest fear is to love you forever like i promised i would
i remember it all in a different light now,
when i told you i only have eyes for you,
you smiled and my world followed
how could i have known there were messages in morse code
coming out of the gaps between your teeth,
spelling out a simple no.
a simple no would have sufficed,
a simple no would have
both killed and later on rebirthed me.
i see it all in a different light now,
perhaps disappointment never treads lightly
or alone,
no, it drags acceptance along with it.
No one tells you one half of Janus is only there
to accentuate the other,
but as you get older you get used to certain things,
like that love would be an omnipotent light
if it weren’t for the human error of surrender,
love is a laserquest
on repeat
and this life is too much to bear,
almost like these feelings were made for a much bigger me, a full bodied goddess that has the capability of crushing this world if it denies her of her feelings.
sometimes i feel like these feelings were made for me, but on a bigger scale, a me i should’ve been but never got the chance to, a me that drank four cups of milk, a me that has a growth sprout every year, a me that can grow so grand and stand so tall it clasps the world, takes out the continents, and spells out whatever her heart is telling her in morse code.
Sometimes i feel like these feelings weren’t made for me, like god took a nap and misplaced a few things, i know it’s blasphemous to think that, but these thoughts, too, feel like they germinate from a place i am yet to grow familiar with. a place that holds me like i am merely its medium to leave its print on this soil of a society.
Sometimes I feel like these feelings weren’t made for me, but for someone who has the capacity to only feel them elusively. To feel them at the back of their head, only accessible when they have the time to scour its halls. Someone who doesn’t have to fight their own organs for siding against them, someone who doesn’t feel their stomach churn, their heart reorganizing its ribcage into a xylophone that could play the symphony it’s feeling, their throat burn, their hands shake, their back arch, their head ache; their brain split in two, a crossroad and a burnt map.
sometimes I feel like these feelings were made for someone more resilient, someone who can store them in their pocket till they can find a trash can. someone who is willing to keep it inside until further notice.
sometimes I feel, and feel,
and forget to speak
sometimes I cry without a cause
like a rebel too passionate to be able to carry it through,
my dear, sometimes i feel like this softness is futile,
and words are poisonous,
but then i remember you’re out there,
shedding your light on a love you deserve
i think thats what makes these silences tender.
my thoughts are running amuck,
but you still reside within my heart,
i don’t think only thoughts can change that,
these thoughts i’ve deemed too
weak to utter
the pride i’ve been priding myself
for swallowing has
crawled its way up,
stuck to the center of my tongue
and smothered it with doubt
i haven’t been one to talk,
but i dream of telling you how
i’m a hopeless writer
driving myself to regret
i know you thought me to be strong,
but my thoughts aren’t so brave
love is a laser quest,
on repeat
i keep losing trying not to lose,
i dream of screaming these words;
if you could do it all again,
this time with style,
if i said
i promise, i’ll do better
i’d entwine my hands with yours,
sink my roots into your skin,
ink my poems with your thoughts,
i’d rewrite the entirety of my awful childhood,
this time with hope,
i promise, i’ll rush home and call you
this time,
have you pour your existence into me like a soul returning to its body,
tell you all about how it felt like there was nobody else out there.
i’d keep the misery and the pain
of the confusing nature of childhood,
i’d keep it all,
dip it with your words,
and sink into you like i‘m sure i can keep myself afloat.
i’ll keep my heart on my sleeve,
rip out the paper one
i’ll be real and gentle,
i’ll master both arts
like my heart would split in half if i didn’t
i’ll love you kind,
honest to love
i’d love you enough for your soul
to feel it through lives
now i’m only asking because i need to;
if you could do it all again,
this time,
with the promise of
knowing me,
i’d speak out my mind like it is spotless,
i’d go out my mind trying to convince you that my love is,
i’d love you over
and over
i’d let it seep all over,
i’d listen to the subtle hints in your voice,
instantly write down the songs you play
on the palm of my hand,
make sure it isn’t sweaty,
rush home and write a movie
of everything you said that sounded like
it should never be forgotten,
i’d tell you every thing i love about you,
five times a day,
you’re a religion i would not tire of,
you’re a mosque i’m not afraid to enter,
you’re a god one could cry in the arms of,
you’re a poem too holy to be rewritten,
you, you novel of a person,
i’d list it to you
every day till you’ve grown weary.
at least then it’d be of the routine,
and nothing else.
darling, sometimes i wake up in a cold sweat
all shaken up and scared to death,
all because i remember that there are gardens inside me that will grow
that i will never be able to show
to you
i will never be able to tell you how
i was walking down your street the other day,
and i realized that my biggest fear is to love you forever like i promised i would
i remember it all in a different light now,
when i told you i only have eyes for you,
you smiled and my world followed
how could i have known there were messages in morse code
coming out of the gaps between your teeth,
spelling out a simple no.
a simple no would have sufficed,
a simple no would have
both killed and later on rebirthed me.
i see it all in a different light now,
perhaps disappointment never treads lightly
or alone,
no, it drags acceptance along with it.
No one tells you one half of Janus is only there
to accentuate the other,
but as you get older you get used to certain things,
like that love would be an omnipotent light
if it weren’t for the human error of surrender,
love is a laserquest
on repeat
and this life is too much to bear,
almost like these feelings were made for a much bigger me, a full bodied goddess that has the capability of crushing this world if it denies her of her feelings.
sometimes i feel like these feelings were made for me, but on a bigger scale, a me i should’ve been but never got the chance to, a me that drank four cups of milk, a me that has a growth sprout every year, a me that can grow so grand and stand so tall it clasps the world, takes out the continents, and spells out whatever her heart is telling her in morse code.
Sometimes i feel like these feelings weren’t made for me, like god took a nap and misplaced a few things, i know it’s blasphemous to think that, but these thoughts, too, feel like they germinate from a place i am yet to grow familiar with. a place that holds me like i am merely its medium to leave its print on this soil of a society.
Sometimes I feel like these feelings weren’t made for me, but for someone who has the capacity to only feel them elusively. To feel them at the back of their head, only accessible when they have the time to scour its halls. Someone who doesn’t have to fight their own organs for siding against them, someone who doesn’t feel their stomach churn, their heart reorganizing its ribcage into a xylophone that could play the symphony it’s feeling, their throat burn, their hands shake, their back arch, their head ache; their brain split in two, a crossroad and a burnt map.
sometimes I feel like these feelings were made for someone more resilient, someone who can store them in their pocket till they can find a trash can. someone who is willing to keep it inside until further notice.
sometimes I feel, and feel,
and forget to speak
sometimes I cry without a cause
like a rebel too passionate to be able to carry it through,
my dear, sometimes i feel like this softness is futile,
and words are poisonous,
but then i remember you’re out there,
shedding your light on a love you deserve
i think thats what makes these silences tender.
my thoughts are running amuck,
but you still reside within my heart,
i don’t think only thoughts can change that,