My city's still breathing (but barely it's true)
through buildings gone missing like teeth.
The sidewalks are watching me think about you,
sparkled with broken glass.
I'm back with scars to show.
Back with the streets I know.
They'll never take me
anywhere but here.
Those stains in the carpet,
this drink in my hand,
these strangers whose faces I know.
We meet here for our dress-rehearsal to say
"I
wanted it this way"
and wait for the year to drown.
Spring forward, fall back
down.
I'm trying not to wonder where you are.
All this time lingers, undefined.
Someone choose
who's left and who's leaving.
Memory will rust and erode
into lists
of all that you gave me:
a blanket, some matches, this pain in my
chest,
the best parts of Lonely,
duct-tape and soldered wires,
new words
for old desires,
and every birthday card I threw away.
I wait in 4/4 time.
Count yellow highway lines
that you're relying on to lead you home
