Wandering

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The Morning Moon

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My bedsheet's in tatters, I'm sending it home
With your letters in boxes I'll read when I'm grown
Or when you blow up my phone
At the banquet of anger I'm sitting alone
And falling down flights of stairs I've never known
Singing stories you told
There's a simple and subtle remorse in your words
That beckons me back, but upon my return
I'm mistook for a mockingbird
I'll keep my thoughts in a straight line, stop picking at the seams
Of scorched purple summers, I married dust in the weeds
Making sweet memories
And kisses are useless in these patchworks I've made
It's a rip in your t-shirt, it's a bliss overstayed
It's a lesson in shame
I never did get the ending right and I'm paying for it now
Drifting in prophecy, slipping in sound
I'm just wandering around

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