Writing

This

I’m sorry but I still can’t find the words for this
The connection is all weak and fucked up
It was beautiful before it lost signal
You should’ve seen it
You should’ve felt it

You have to hold it up to the light now
Run that counterfeit pen across it once
And hope the bill doesn’t turn dark
I’m still waiting for it to dry
Money still talks, right?

This ones on me though…
You’re the one reading this
Thinking, “this is fucking weird”
Or my favorite, “she’s actually crazy”
True—also true

But don’t worry, it’s not supposed to make sense
I’m still trying to find the words for this, remember?
It was beautiful
There was something about it, remember?
I’m the one
I’m the one who’s still trying to figure it out

Retrace my steps
Listen closely
Flood the streets with flyers that read “LOST”
In fine print at the bottom, write “No Reward”
No one ever reads the fine print

I’m sorry but I still can’t find the words for this
Maybe it doesn’t care to be defined
I’d say, maybe it doesn’t care at all
— but it has to be here
Somewhere, I had it
Somewhere, I’ve left it
It was beautiful

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