you ran so fast to chase
after him;
so fast that
you left
yourself.

tick..,
tock..,
the ticking of the clock,
the hands of good-bye,
where i dont know which part is good when you say 'bye'.
the talk of 'you will be fine',
which i know that i wont.
the smile of 'i will see you soon"
which we don't know 'when is soon?'.
.
the bus stop,
the rain drops.
one coat, two slots.
is the clock still ticking?
'cause you're about to leaving,
while i'm here,
hanging..
.
tick..,
tock..,
the clock keeps ticking,
but the memory of you keeps sticking.

She left at the wrong time, but was there ever a right time
She must have seen a sign or worse she may have gotten tired
I thought I was the one who could fill her desire
When we met again she seemed happier
something changed, but in a good way
It was at that moment I knew she wasn't there for me in the beginning
I was meant to be there for her in the end
Timing doesn't matter, All that matters is the memories we shared
For those will last a lifetime

coaxing you back, you’ve been in touch and other senses,
the full thing
cackling at boxed remedies with disowned roots and perfume
some of your ways I saw pushing up daisies, but you knew
with eight legs of womb, the odd collecting caw
with peals of blue and pink emerald encased there would be roads excavated the lace of cobwebs holding
more explosions, implosions than the collective
of stars

coaxing you back, you’ve been black, silver
and every single burst of this
caught up in these failing wishes, new old golden chariots that
paw, claw dance around the dark
mercy for us, prayers for beauty
you lay off the pressure like a yawning diamond coil
throw me a few more yew seeds to feed our ink stain
singing however, not knowing how many tracks we are
to be given