Yarn

Out by the door
the don't
The don't-go's
start
Banging out like
Mazel-tov every time
of year it's
popping off
The room gets quiet
like a crack from a whip
went and-
went off.

Could have found a fix but
instead I took a shortcut
Now I got lost but that breeze feels nice
Not quite like moss
I'm breathing salt into my lungs
I'm
Feeling a song coming on

Oh oh oh and I'm onto the next one
Letting go of a string that never
gets tired of being
tugged on

All alone in a room
with the sound
fucking
turned off.