its warm, the softest haze
and i find myself thinking
this isnt how its supposed to be
i'm to be on an empty dock
at dawn
wet wind slapping me in the face
just as the truth sets in
that all things must come to an end
and it is the most magnificent things
that never stay
and i would watch you sail away
and i wouldn't cry
because i've been told to save my tears
never let good suffering go to waste
dip my feather in velvet tears for when long nights strech and my paper is as empty as my chest

but

here i am
its comfortably warm and the sun embraces all of our flesh
as if i am its most beloved green
and it so unfair
for the world to turn its back on me
how am i to be miserable
with so much peace surrounding me?
i will find my dock
i will find a way to make use of this
my tears mean something