everything green and willing.
New birds I learn will let you down
just like an older murder of crows.
We lost fruit, photographs,
books and inside jokes,
but the main thing we lost
was precious time and limited love.
Your ego back on my tongue,
same songs, different people.
I matter even at the bottom,
the microphone hails from the way.
A ghost out of the corner
of my eye of my mind.
With those repetitive melodies,
that bash the eardrums like a hammer.
and how coherently you understand
even in my low jumbled life
this sad setlist is because of you.