backthought

A million miles out here in the south,
a thousand feelings away from where I was when you were alive
I sit in a field of grapes and wait
and try to see where I've been shipped off to
Try to find where I went wrong in all these complexes
swirling and hurtling towards and out of me
I see it spinning and twisting
falling away from you and I
I see our breaths mixing and singeing in that glass jar I've sealed shut
and buried in my back pocket, unable to dig em' up and free them
It's almost as if I'm not allowed to, it's impossible for me to retrieve them
and bring them out to drift and cascade away
So I'm stuck, perching on this new found land I've been given
Stuck in the reality now, here it is
I'm not on a field, I'm no where near those grapes and vacancy
I'm sealed and shut in a white building
with thousands of others; with a thousand feelings that are the same
and different from my own
my past

I can't breathe in this building
And maybe that's okay,
beacuse really,
I know in my heart,
I won't be able to breathe anywhere else if I'm not with you,
much less a building made for crazies