Now and again it seems worse than it is,
but mostly the view is accurate.
You see your breath in the air
as you climb up the stairs
to that coffin you call your apartment.
And you sink in your chair,
brush the snow from your hair
and drink the cold away.
You’re not really sure
what you’re doing this for
but you need something to fill up the days.
A few more hours.
There’s a dream in my brain that just won’t go away.
It’s been stuck there since it came a few nights ago
I’m standing on a bridge in the town where I lived
as a kid with my mom and my brothers.
And then the bridge disappears
and I’m standing on air
with nothing holding me.
And I hang like a star,
fucking glow in the dark,
for all those starving eyes to see,
like the ones we’ve wished on.
But now I’m confused.
Is this death really you?
Do these dreams have any meaning?
No. No, I think it’s more like a ghost
that’s been following us both.
Something vague that we’re not seeing,
something more like a feeling.
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