we dress our wounds
in sweet nocturnes
like pebbles in an hourglass
we shatter dreams in moonbeams
and fail to make these moments last
never speak to me in honesty
or drown me in your past
because i know, because i know
because i had always told you so
that atlas sleeps on soundless keeps
and shares his arms with the world.

wake up to my yesterdays and wait
for me to wander by, i'm there all the time
when you're not sure what to think
or if you're deserving of anything
i'm written in the roots of trees
and all the ugly little things
mushrooms from the rain that
dream to be clouds, and you always wished
they were proud of you
and i'm every little ghost in your broken home
the abandoned palace where parasites roam
and ask theirselves why as you ask yourself why
that you're loved, if they're loved.

and you're the second hand in my wristwatch
the clock towers that fail to spin you up
the raindrop on my windshield when i drive
but I've lost the will to stay alive.

you're the moments that i let slip
the glass i wrapped in aluminum foil
and placed in my broken fridge to spoil
why do i risk everything by risking nothing?
you were right. you're always right.