Try not to rush.
There is nothing after us.
Just our worries in disguise,
fueled by overbearing pride.
I feel drunk when I’m with you.
There’s a grace in what we do.
Though I know I’m in a way,
I’ll get over it someday.
There’s a science
to all our anxious sounds,
and a progress
that I just can’t figure out.
Don’t let me push my weight,
or give into a lust.
I need for you to stay,
or we reunite with dust.
I'm mostly in my head,
being chased by dogs, eyes-red.
Though I know their phantom shapes
there's only so much I can take.
There’s a science
to all our anxious sounds,
and a progress
that I just can’t figure out.
Don’t let me push my weight,
or give into a lust.
I need for you to stay,
or we reunite with dust.

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