Slow Death - We Were Skeletons

It’s a slow death waking off the road.

Endless highway lines pass the time.

You only think about it when you’re back home.

Never going back.

Never turn around.

What’s in front of the headlights is fidelity.

You only think about it when

you’re back home.

Lovesick for a memory

our city still holds.

Our city

holds a dead end road.

People that you never see without confronting.

People without reason — words with no concession.

No.

Losing sleep — stationary, still.

Sweating it out over nothing.

You are stuck

on some shit that just won’t come unstuck.

You can’t think of it to make sense of it.

Struggling to focus.

Don’t get stuck

on this.

Losing what we had.

Living what we lost.

Breathing empty words.

Leaving restless nights back home.