Almost two years and
These streets are heavy while letting me
In on the secret I came here for

The streets whisper,
"There isn't one. Move on. Move out."

We aim to do so

Let down is not the right phrase
Let go is more like it
Some days you try harder at love
Then others

And sometimes
Those days
Are the better one's

Forgetting love
You forget reasons for living
You forget about the dualism of life
And can breathe for a bit
Not sounding like gasping

Happiness gets easier
They tell me
Melancholia is an oil spill
Whose scent and touch
Can never fully be washed away
Like the blood of a ******
Or the acts of a lover cheating

How we
Carry our wounds
Through life
Like baggage full of old clothing
We just can't seem to part with

Where's the money coming from?
Where's the free time?
Is that the sound of the noon-day chimes?

And the party lights are dimming
As my soul quivers in this moonlight
Like a glass of fresh beer over the brim spilling
Dusk falls, the trees waver, the field awaits the killing
As the maid at dinner slaves preparing

Absent in mind
Absent in heart

The *** all alone

Pushes along his cart