We were in Spain and static,
time was so slow,
but I was “insane” for having
wished I was home,
but I was closer than I’d ever been,
that’s how I’ll remember it for us.
I was acting erratic,
hard to rewire,
but I’d been slowly remapping
since ’99,
and I was going off the empathy,
it didn’t seem to handle me that well.
Can I cheat my life (or lack thereof)?
Can I sleep next to me?
An about-face, my life is catching up,
it’s hard to be honest enough.
Had I been caring enough?
I was savage in Paris,
cruel to be kind,
dusty alleys and attics,
a head to rewind,
and it was hard to find the energy,
somewhere on the balcony I sunk.
Can I just be?
Can’t you be honest with me?
Can I be more than I was?
I didn’t care enough.