When you can’t get to sleep
Because the sky is on fire
Turn around and don’t step back
There is nothing left
That can catch up behind.
It’s not from the rain, nor from the grey sky
It’s not from the clouds, and I can’t really say I get it – but why?
I’m parked at a gas station looking outside
Where the world plays the movie and I keep quiet and hide.
Sometimes everything is moving, but you’re the one standing still
Every day seems exactly the same
Like the clouds are on repeat and
There is a fire but there is no flame.
There are no answers to be found; the lights keep blinking in the distant world
And all I can promise myself
is that I can’t find it here.
Here I am.
Breadcrumbs on the concrete,
and it’s raining. But not from the sky.
There are several ways to go from here,
though I don’t know which one to take and why.
Maybe I was wrong,
Maybe I could have known, or maybe not.
All I know is that I’m sitting here,
with breadcrumbs on the concrete,
and rain that
does not fall
from the sky.