i must admit that i am in awe of the way you walk past
the immigration office
(or the way you walked out that door, but we musn't dwell on things)

like you have nothing to hide - like secrets float off your cheek
(it's rather silly how your secrets are much more obvious when you toss and turn underneath my sheets)

therapists told me to take a journey well into my soul
(they told me to dive, but we both know i'm only capable of unintentionally falling)

they told me to visit my happy place so i threw a dart at the map
(but let's be honest - without you home already feels like a dingy motel.)

and it amazes me how now with all the rust you've smothered onto my veins, you still expect me to walk peacefully through airport metal detectors.