Can you forgive yourself for who you are?
Spilt coffee on your white shirt
Knobby knees knocking together
Do you think people can see your heart beating?
Like smashing dishes on the hardwood floor
or unraveling spider webs
How did it feel to not say goodbye?
I stand in my wet socks
When the snow in my boots melt
But will I remember what my mom’s hands look like?
And how my nose has grown into my fathers
These thoughts of my parents getting old.
Do you remember chipped teeth at night?
Humid Haze spinning sweat from your brow and
Forgotten roads forgetting our footprints
Wasn’t forgiveness supposed to be freeing?
There are so many rules to letting go
Slow down, there are worse things than being alone
Do you know what your name means?
Like speaking in front of a crowd
Recipes for breaking a bone and a heart are the same
What are you willing to sacrifice?
Stretch your hands through the sunroof
See if this time you can catch the light.