What is change but drawing parallels between a point in time and what you've lost since then?
Still feeling restless but making amends between time, myself, and distance.
A thread pulled taut, cut and tied, wearing thin as our patience.
Maybe when our memories can only vaguely retrace the way that faces tessellate (and mirror the way you felt back then), we'll find ourselves in the same place again.
Track Name: I've Gained And Lost Patience With Time
To find comfort in saying it or holding it back
my throat burns either way.
I'd tell you it matters
but it's such a mediocre way to make a point.
Life is too big for that.
I'll find my way.
Track Name: This Is How You Better Yourself
A step beyond blue but not clinically depressed,
the sweet isn't as sweet as it used to be.
I'm scared I won't enjoy what comes out of this,
but I'll be glad that it'll be over, as long as I am older.
I forget the worth of growing and that living is a process.
No one really leaves but no one ever stays either.
I've been basing my decisions too much on your opinions.
Everyone around me seems to have their life figured out.
Forfeit myself to a lost cause.
Forget myself and who I was.
I've earned back the value of all my previous actions,
and I don't feel ashamed at all for who I've been.
I still worry about the future or where I'll be in ten years,
but I'm consciously striving for a life well spent.
I'm feeling okay about spending time alone.
Try forgetting and moving on.
To commit this to memory.
To feel deserving of all of this.
Track Name: Tact & Character
The years started stacking like books with loose bindings
amongst other forgotten things on your shelf.
Steps slowly slipped away from our feigned sense of direction,
leaving our weathered hands reluctant to let go of one another for fear of being alone.
Morning sunlight spells patterns on your walls like small maps of old moments now gone.
I am there now seeking shelter under your skin.
Burrowed in deeper than your first regret.
Because I'm more of a coward than I (would ever) care to admit, and though I wish my will was stronger, you'll always win.
(It's nice to know you didn't forget.)
I attached myself to your spine before you pulled me out
and tore apart whatever was left of my old self, although not entirely. Maybe I was too stubborn to see it then,
when you took pity on me and said,
"You weren't aware you were losing something.
You weren't aware you were giving up."