After she tells me
She can't do this long distance thing again.
I'm too worried, angry, sad.
My heart's getting poked apart by an icepick.
I'm picking up my uniform to start
as a waiter tomorrow.
I didn't finish that letter to Paul.
I know what his reply will be.
Get on a plane. Get out of there.
Pack your ****. We will not lose you.
Get out of there. Get out.
But I can't send it.
So I'm lying there
kicked aside,
the pillow I was pretending was her.
And I just start thinking about
What paradise is.
I'm anxious all the seconds
I'm not something worse.
But I know there's somewhere
Where it'll stop.
It'll feel right. Like this is the
Way ahead.