In a pinch, the picnic table can double as a shelter.
Nevermind the would-be athletes vaulting over it.
The lyrics of our song are carved underneath.
Sometimes, late at night,
I stand on top and remember how to breathe.

hear the chime
of the cold constellations
that guide you
at 2:56 in the morning.
taste the worries of tomorrow
overflowing from your mug,
spilling onto your lap
of glitching faces,
distorting your body
into millions of pixels.
touch the signals
from the suicidal satellites
dictating your amygdala
in a requiem
of the winter dawn.

you lay
in a bed of clouds
under blankets
of anxious thoughts.
blue volcanoes
spew out violet insults
telling you
that you won't make it
past the milky way,
so you burn your fingertips
trying to reach for the sun
in hopes
that it will prove those indigo offenses wrong.
third-degree burns
**** your senses
and leave you
feeling nothing.
seeing nothing.
being nothing.
you look up to the sky,
eyes dripping with desperation,
only to find
that the man in the moon
left you
for another life.

and
suddenly,
at 2:57 in the morning,
you realize
that orion doesn't seem so bright to you anymore.

imagine if you were born at the beginning of time
imagine if you had the whole beautiful world placed in your hands like soft clay, ready to and waiting to be molded
imagine that you were the first domino to tip, the beginning of the chain reaction

i think about this a lot
i think about the big beautiful world in all its glory
i think about the big beautiful world and what we've done to it

imagine that you could look up at night and see the stars before light pollution, before air pollution
imagine that you could see every animal that has since gone extinct
imagine every life and every glimmer in your hands, watch them die faster than you can keep track of
would you do anything, everything to prevent it?

we are just here
we are just... here
we created society and money and the concept of purpose
hand to the throat, grip tight, contribute to society
you owe corporations for the air you breathe
it is up to me to decide if you are worth basic necessity
burden
free-loader

imagine
you could just
live

Their love was never possible
It could not allowed to be
So deceptively decant
The way the beach consumes the sea

Amid the fields of flowers
Where no one would ever see
He stripped her heart so bare
She begged him willingly

Exchanging dangerous glances
It made her heart to race
He consumed her every thought
They made it do in haste

But their days began to narrow
The path became unsure
Deceit flared out it's nostrils
For their lust there was no cure

The parting was barely visible
She went about her way
He chose the other path
That lead down to the cay

She sails in luxurious ships
He sits in a craber's shack
They both turn their shoulders
Always looking back

Their love was never possible

She stood, barefoot,
at his burial
It was August and hot
Her onyx, knee length hair, hung loose,
blowing in the storm she was conjuring
Hailing from the eastern skies
Her burnt oil eyes, dry
She had no need for tears,
Heaven would cry for her
Born the first of 13
in a long line of darkened blood
300 years bread from Ireland,
to the Cumberland mountains and rolling hills
Every first before her, Born with a caul
"Knowing"
Each generation striving for 3 daughter's and seven sons
Seventh sons born water witches
Each first daughter a
"Seer", amongst other dark blessings
Cauls kept, and buried at midnight 'neath willow branches for blessings
These first daughters,
bore one of three hairs,
raven black, silver, or gold
from birth
Never greying
I watched her
stayed with my grandmother
beside her husband's grave
Till night fell
Her hair, never went grey

You should ask my lover if I am a good person
He'll tell you all about the girl he fell in love with
He'll tell you how through his eyes she was perfect
And all of her mental disorders became nothing

But what is happening to me?
I started to let go of myself
I started to not care about anything anymore
You might think he left but all he told me was "I can handle it"

And what did I do?
I left him because of the circumstances we were in
Because my parents hate him and seeing him was too hard
I no longer saw light at the end of the tunnel
Nor with him, nor with myself

I am such  a bad person
I drive those who are good to me away
And I attract those who are bad to me
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

You know, I get this image of us dancing together in serenity
In a place where we are no longer bothered by the circumstances
It's not fair that I don't get to choose anything anymore
As I write in tears I remember what we used to be
And how we never got our last first dance