Fold

Trouble hates an architect. I lost my way

I’ll call it once

Calling twice will bore me

And how could I sell it, spent on heartache?

I work to sit around

Just another skeleton cluttering the closet.

Only so long that I can concentrate on what’s missing

Helpless to the fold

And then it’s gone. The worry is over

What I give to feel less somehow.

Remember wanting what I want to throw away, haunting the things I’ll save

Desire’s a fever I just sweat out

A waiting game, older with each attempt. Yet we wait.

Yet I also wait -

For the courage to hit reset and steer new strings

I keep walking straight

Back to where I am.

We always know more of our monsters than ourselves

What I’d give to know less right now

I’ve always known.