i sit and wonder where life goes when i'm not looking it in the eye
and then i smell it wafting up, the stench from my feet after a day at work
chasing little people that need me more than they need their own mothers,
i taste it in the notes that land between light and languid singing out from
the wine glass that holds the only thing that can put me to bed these days,
i feel it on this old torn up couch that's been passed around in musical houses
since 1973, tattered and worn, but it's the only thing that feels like home,
and i hear it in the door slams that come from the tiny hands of the neighbor's
children as they screech in and out, like miniature race cars whizzing round the bend

this life surrounds me, eats me whole, ***** me out, and repeats the process
until there's not a breath left to consume, a moment left to experience,
a burst of light left to pry open my eyelids when all i want to do is lay in bed
this life is mine, but it's everyone else's too, and as much as i want to hold tight
to the fleeting moments that end too soon, i've got to let go in order to keep up with it