I’m fine

Woke up with a headache

And a bus ticket crumpled in my coat

Don’t know where I got it

But it feels like something I wrote

There’s a guy on the corner

Playing songs he probably hates

And I drop in a dollar

Like I’m fixing some mistake

The sun’s in my eyes

Like it’s mad I showed up late

Every face just floats by

Like it’s got somewhere better to wait

I talk to myself

Just to hear a steady sound

Like a train in the distance

That never slows down

And I’m fine, I guess, if you stretch the word

I’ve been writing down thoughts

I don’t want to be heard

Like: “The world keeps spinning ‘cause it can’t sit still”

And “The quiet gets louder when you’ve had your fill”

But I’m fine

Yeah, probably fine

I found an old notebook

With a list of things to change

All the pages just echo

With the same exact complaints

Like: “Wake up early” — yeah right

“Eat less sugar” — good try

“Call your mother” — maybe

When the guilt starts to die

So I lie, a lot, but mostly to me

Sayin’ next time I’ll try

Like that somehow makes me free

And I laugh at my jokes

When they’re not even good

But the silence is worse

Than being misunderstood

So I lie

Yeah, but only sometimes

Now I’m counting the cracks

In the sidewalk again

Like maybe they’ll tell me

Where all this ends

But they just keep going

Like they always do

And I guess I’ll keep walking

‘Til I do too