I remember when I felt the Great Shift before I even knew what it was.
Driving home in my glitter dress and your red bow-tie.
I played songs that reminded me of you, reaching out.
But when I turned to sing the lyrics to you,
you were a million miles away,
in another universe,
orbiting a different sun.
I tried to patch it up, putting my arm through yours like
a needle and thread through cloth.
We ripped apart in every pothole we hit on the road.
Still to this day, I wonder,
where did you go?
Jan 10, 2021
Jan 10, 2021 at 11:01 AM UTC
I remember when I felt the Great Shift before I even knew what it was.
Driving home in my glitter dress and your red bow-tie.
I played songs that reminded me of you, reaching out.
But when I turned to sing the lyrics to you,
you were a million miles away,
in another universe,
orbiting a different sun.
I tried to patch it up, putting my arm through yours like
a needle and thread through cloth.
We ripped apart in every pothole we hit on the road.
Still to this day, I wonder,
where did you go?
I think tonight, more than most, I just miss you
