Ripped rusted nails, from broken wood, built this porch upon where we stand
I forgot all of the bad times
I remember long distant phone calls and listening to your music over the phone
Yet again this outlet feels to fall quite short
Has it lost its aesthetic
Donation based validation
Have we lost our nerve?
This stance falls upon dead ears
Words are drowned out by naps and individually wrapped snacks/packs
These hands so dry will crack and bleed
I will lose my sleep again tonight