It Comes From a Place

You lit a match, then left it burning. I watched the

walls get good at learning. We don't say much,

but we say enough in the static between the stuff. You said,

"This isn't how I planned it." Well, neither did I, but here we

landed. Feet on the floor and minds in space, still showing up,

still saving face. It comes from a place I don't talk about, not love,

not fear, not the easy out, not the party you post or

the face you fake, it's the middle of the mess you make.