The rain on my windshield is a distraction from the road
little staccato bursts of light
and I would pull over but there’s nowhere else for me to go.
I guess I didn’t pick an ideal night to leave
but the stillness in the house was slowly killing me
the lease is good for 3 more days but I’m all alone here anyways.
It doesn’t seem right
it doesnt seem polite
And all the little things you left behind I threw away
I’m not good with souvenirs
that weren’t left for me anyways
The house is full of shadows that I tried to leave behind
and some of them follow
and most were not mine.
There’s a hourglass and a shot glass
sitting side by side
and I’m right here on the
wrong side of the divide.