my hands don't know what to do
in most places and scenarios.
I like to keep the television always on
in the background just in case of silence.
frontyard music does the same magic,
especially when new days make me feel like a pseudo new man.
I am still living in misspelled time,
where your skinny-finger hands haunt my clocks.
the way off, the way off, the way off
was right here all along.
please don't die on me,
because everyday I work for your words.