let’s paint a picture: it’s 12am, and i am in my head

tossing and turning

heart crashing into my ribcage like waves against the shore

and suddenly, all the empty spaces on my walls

have never ached more clearly

and what if they see me? what if they don’t?

what if i fuck up? what if i’m alone?

what if i run away to paris? what if i say no?

’cause maybe in another language, my heart would sing clear this time

clear, like the morning

clear like progress, one step at a time

clear like a green lawn, and the good life we all chased after

even when paradise started to rot in our teeth

when the walls began to sing

and the staircase buckled under my weight

and the songbirds looked more like vultures

closing in around me

and maybe i’m dreaming; i don’t even know

’cause i don’t trust my mind; not in this shit-show

you know that picture of you and me, from way back when?

and we’re sitting on the rock, looking out at the ocean

i thought you were the whole world to me

i thought you were gravity, you were freckles and sharp teeth

like the kindest daydream i had ever met

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