there are things I can't unsee
words that I can't unread
I can feel you're near, but I can't find you
buried deep underneath
the back porch
the bed frame
the doormat
the windowpane
you never forgot where we hid hope
now nothing feels the same as I remember
nothing looks the same as it did before
would you like it if I came over?
and if I did could I lay beside you in mother's bed?
and if I did what would it mean if I spent another night?
what would it mean?
would it be alright?
in effort to reclaim the part that I would play
I got the pages of your last note
now nothing feels the same as I remember
nothing looks the same as it did before
would you ignore the body?
would it be alright if we just slept?
in effort to reclaim the part that I would play
I never forgot where we came from.

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