the past will catch you up as you run faster, the last in line is always called a bastard, and in the fall i’ll leave again and everyone will say they miss me but no one will call, i’ll know no one where i’m going and i’ll have nothing to come back to, i’ll be someone totally different again and it will still matter to no one.

when the sun started to come up over the ocean, i ran for home, so what does this say about me, and there will be time for a million visions and revisions, so how do i presume, and so what, he held my hand and wanted to kiss me at the stop lights, so what i was shaking, everything moves me and i move nothing, so what you realized it too late, you don’t love me, you love being haunted, and everything moves me and i move nothing but my life from here to there and it always fits neatly into boxes.