how long have i been standing here
the edge of the roof seems so high
and i've always been afraid of heights
but like the fool i feel i should leap

why won't the songs i love
fit the mood that i am in?

i keep pressing shuffle,
"surprise me," i ask the universe
that embodies my fingertip
as i press the button
over and over again

and i sit at the edge of the world
which is only a rooftop,
looking for the right song for the occasion

how can every sound feel wrong?

in this moment, i'm convinced
you've sabotaged my goodbye

so i stand back up, looking over the edge

it's only a ladder's length down,
but somehow climbing is scarier
than a fall could ever be
the pace makes all the difference.

so perhaps, i should just take
a couple steps back
and take a deep breath

and while the sky isn't blue
and i am alone with thoughts in my head
perhaps this might be a nice place
to paint a picture of what it is that i want

i feel like i'm constantly forgetting
who the little girl i wanted to be
had as an answer for the future

but one day i'll make her proud

her little smile is worth it

and maybe, that's what your sabotage did

it made me look away from the world
and into my head for a moment
and i've spent so many weeks clearing out cobwebs that i wonder
if it was your plan all along

you think of me often, but your hand
hovers over the button

press send. stop leaving it to fate.

i can only have 3-day lovers for so long

i still remember how it feels to run
my hands through misbehaving hair
cinnamon sighs escaping unkissed lips
as we discuss what's on your plate
before you fill mine with fresh fruit
and pancakes

why are you on my mind?

you've been a stranger far too long to be a friend

and yet i see you in my dreams

ask to kiss me in the dead of night
lazily lay an arm on my waist
and whisper out wishes for tomorrow

are you letting yourself rest nowadays?

are you still worried about your brother?

are you still in your head?

did he ever message you back?

do you still write songs?

did you unite your preponderances

with the sound?

or are you still sitting in your void

snapping to find the echo

within an empty room

cluttered with fancy clothes

and fairy lights?

perhaps your top hat sits upturned
among your sheets and ship
along with two copies of a tape
of a movie you don't care about

maybe you're shutting out the world
with parties you know are unsafe
to feel alive during the plague

do you still think of those two bears
on their bike, left to their own devices
in a little display where we could point
murmuring between camera clicks
that "that one's dressed like you!"
and "this one has my hat!"

do you still hate my guts for crimes
i never commited?

do you still want my father's job?

i still have a wrapped up piece of you
in a plastic bag in my bedroom
half hidden so i dont think about it

i have other means to get high,
so i never smoked it.

can we trade?

you don't need to say hello,

or to hold me as i cry.

but could i please have my stuff back?

i miss those safe pages i let you hold