I know these things happen in epochs-
Some seal into your bones and others break marrow.
I just guess yesterday,
I wasn’t counting on counting tomorrow.
If I scrape harder, will I cut?
And if I remember to forget
Will the city forget to remember me back?
And if I shed now,
Will I have to shed again?
And if these old cells need to die-
Will I ever mend?
And if I do nothing, will I stay?
Will the years I spent keep the worst of me at bay?
And if I run. will I run again?
Or will I always be hellbent- on finding home?
And I’m scared to death that the world that yesterday
Seemed so vast, now is gone, and overly compact.
And if home isn’t a place, a self, or a heart
Will I ever learn the art – of letting go?
Or am I destined forever to be a rolling stone?
But if it’s true what if they say about cells
Could I find a way to hold space
For the next of me to sell?
And hell, if I make this promise, will it just be between
Me and you?
And if I ossify and change into someone you don’t like
Will you promise to see the next phase of me through?
And I knew these times they are a changin’
I just next expected the rest of my life to arrive so soon.
But if I stay here longer, maybe I won’t disintegrate or break
And if I don’t go back maybe I can find a way
For the rest of me to stay.