I tried to tell the truth but they smothered me,
No one wants the truth-- no one wants that responsibility.

The summer sky was slashed across our backdrop,
and the bleeding sun beginning to fade,
we counted out the hours, minutes and the seconds,
wishing all the moments we lost could've stayed.
And in that moment I loved you,
I loved you so sure and deep,
and in our temporary lives, on this temporary earth, this temporary moment made it all seem...
worth it.

Over and over like an endless love story we are pulled back together.
No matter where we go,
No matter all we've done,
You are the fibres of my existence-- and I will always come back to you.

"But you're pretty"--
As
If
I
Only
Exist
To
Be
Aesthetically
Pleasing
To
You--
I am pretty,
So why am I empty?

We are all falling into chaos;
our houses of cards are crashing.
If we could zoom out time like you can a camera lens,
we could see the spectrum for what it is and maybe we could truly witness universal entropy increasing-- it's always increasing.
We would be witnesses to the truth of dust, the truth of chaos.
We could be seers of time and space and float above everything, escaped from the race.
Instead I can only witness my small blip of time from own my small perspective.
I will watch politicians and global warming and the world run around in circles and I will call this chaos.

It covers me in blankets,
and silences me like the morning after a snow storm,
here the world is muted, dampened, softened under its weight.
The noises start again when we dig ourselves out.
She doesn't dig herself out,
she sits at her window and watches the figures below,
she's been buried for so long what's a few more days?