Last days always feel like the end
Like I can’t take another step
Without making sense of before times
All this can be wrapped up in little gifts
And tied in silly bows and passed out to all of you
Well of all the times I crossed my heart and died
Laid my head down softly and cried
It wasn’t that I wanted to go
And leave the best part of me behind
It’s that journeys have these sudden jaunts
Where you make your best departure
And quietly bow before the curtain hit’s the floor.
Pictures are like flames that caution of what was
But these days work my memory like a conveyer belt
Always turning into the infinite me
I will take days made of everything here
And secure them to my inner me
I will take things I can’t explain right now
Like taking myself away from something I was made for
I will do what needs be with all that has been set before
And make the worst not so bad
And the best seem only better.
