If i lost all I hold dear I would walk into the woods like we did today
and see what’s on the other side we never walk to- why do we never walk through?
it is the fear of leaving it all behind, or do the things we know become a blanket? (wake up, wake up)
I would go swim in the riptide and try to make it back follow the coast like they suggest and drift far enough to say i’ve gone somewhere and let the water push for now for now
we’re brought up on blocks; we build to make ourselves. wood grain, like the finish on your walls. snake skin in your bed, it’s strange the years you shed.
twelve years from now who will you be? considering the shell you left here last night next to me.
snake skin in your bed it’s strange the years you shed and how you thought the walls wouldn’t peel like we do.