We're so sure Concerning births, With one hundred billion Born on Earth Since chaos turned to form; There's fourteen times more people dead To the eight billion this time round. And yet, I can't conceive The finality of death. The equation's misconstrued: Of all the numbers Come and gone, I count mine, Not yours.
I still admire the innocence in others Objectively, Like watching a movie already knowing the ending But still suspending my disbelief for a few seconds of tenderness Where skin doesn't feel like sandpaper And nails against dry clay (a feeling you never got used to. )
A relief to think that somebody must exist with purity, a somebody, truly For somebody Else Before they have withered Before they have been neglected to be Placed in direct sunlight
I left you on the train tracks and I've been trying to apologise for Years but nothing feels right You threw rocks back I never expected anything less No china shop but you bull-shitted Your way through everything And I never had the guts to stop you I kept you in self-inflicted put me downs And calorie counted sweetness You still got a hold over me And now I try to fit you into rhymes But nothing works I found you last summer In empty beer bottles and dead dandelions I should have known they were signs Nothing was alive Not even you
