I'm a bird detatched from words.

she loved disappointment until she finally got it,

by the time you could see her

her shadow was gone

somewhere in Wisconsin

where wedding bells thud

to the dead weight of feelings we lost.

Now there's hardly a story

but I feel I should tell you

the longest sustainment of reason and frames

of glimpses of moments I barely remember

have I really been talking this long?

There's wind between panes of glass in a frame

of knock off champagne and dimly lit stage

where theres answers in laughter and the kites through the strings

we were astronauts somewhere in the words we would sing

sadly turning away

from dark desperation to stay

put somewhere else away

from anwhere but here.

Yeah, I'm doing it again, ambiguously

there's structures I finger flipped off with the breeze

at the top of the trees with one broken wing

it wasn't even enough to leave.

So I lay on the ground and sing about broken things.