all those pretty things.

oh, poor pitiful stupid me,
my "used to be"
is a city bleeding it's population
for no reason at all.

I've stopped the whole escapist thing.
or started to.

harvest moon.
dead of winter.
school bells and bumblebees
and the smell of the Bradfords.

I'm walking backwards through
every labyrinth ever
just looking for somewhere
to sleep.