Tiny Moving Parts

Volumes

Tiny Moving Parts


Help me count to ten backwards but not too fast
Help me measure out how much time has passed
I need a better understanding
A focal point and a glass of whiskey
A formulated plot to make these thoughts stop

I sit around I think about
How loud this silence can sound
But these drinks make me happy
Temporarily until the morning
Comes back again

I swear the volumes multiply
When you’re in bed fast asleep inside
Honestly I haven’t felt alive in a while
Cut the ties lose the limbs
They wear you down
As they wear me down too
I still miss you

Please come back again
I need you more than anything
And if this place escapes my head
I will pretend
Keep pretending to touch the rain clouds
Pull the tears out
Let the volumes drown themselves out

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