it's in the echo of my voice coming back to me
sitting on the bed of a packed room

the spaces on the walls
where my pictures used to be

a slow dwindling of faces that i saw every week
people increasingly passed out passing out passing by

it was the slow changes in the air and the frequency
with which the sun let its rays drop

the slow wave of people ebbing around
and how much stuff i suddenly had
and then just didn't

why does this world curve the way it does?
i don't ask for the physics but the philosophy

how will i see your face one day when we're the only ones left?
this world after all curves you away from me

oceans and continents
my home split into two my people split into two
torn between different countries continents
ways of living

my life packed into boxes and suitcases
maybe it's not at all it's written up to be
but it's been a great ride

and i let life take care of me
but your face moves and so does mine
it shifts
and i wonder if i ever needed the world to be flat

familiar is nice
change is difficult
i state the obvious but
my heart is in my throat
my hands shake and my legs aren't enough to support me
my my my my my

i don't know where this feeling inside of me began
and i don't know where it ends

i remain perched on the precipice of life
making my calculations
even as winds change
i'm always a step a beat behind
barely anything but that makes all the difference