Early winter,
Trouble brewing.
Do I know what the **** I'm doing?
When we meet again will it be clear?
Do I know what I'm doing here?

Spoons still drying,
Sunshine waning,
The once inviting dance is draining.
Caring for myself,
More than someone else,
is not something I find entertaining.

But when I'm cooking,
When I'm cold,
I connect with something very old.
Memories become old as well
In a backwards kind of parallel

To do lists need belief suspension,
I don't have my drivers license,
What do I know about rear suspension.

I need to get my driver license,
But first I need to change my name.
Tomorrow's a bitter pill to swallow,
I don't think I like this game.