Make Do & Mend Coats
A knock on the door from an old friend that you thought
that you'd never see again.
You prayed that the sad seasons would end, but they
weren't listening.
So take your coat from the bin under the bed.
I watched it go away in the pale reflection of my face.
I count the hours as they're circling the drain. I'm out
of time to waste.
To navigate the empty page, I'll need all the motivation
I can fake.
As far as I'm frankly concerned, there's still no water
when the faucet handles turn.
We traded everything for untread ground.
We spent the last two years to scared to slow down.
Open your mouth, nothing comes out.
Run yourself in circles until the bottom falls out and
you hit the ground.
Still I try to work it out, made more excuses than my
fingertips could count.
With every age, there's no progress made.
There's just a wall of hesitation I could never work
around.
I bit my nails to the quicks just to show that I had
nothing more to give.
