Woke up inside someone else’s mistake
Same shoes, same street, same invisible ache
They painted the sky in industrial gray
So no one could tell if it’s night or it’s day
Pulled the blinds on the radio news
It’s a rerun of panic and comfortable blues
Drank my coffee with shaking hands
Wrote my name in the dust on a power plant van
And I try not to think, but it thinks through me
Like a maze with a map I was never meant to read
They said “hold on tight” but I already let go
I just drift where the paperweight sky says to go
The boss says I’m quiet, the clerk says I’m cold
The mirror just shrugs like it’s 30 years old
I’m made out of wire and skin and receipts
For things I don’t need and pills I don’t keep
I watch the pigeons play god on the roof
They fly when they want, they fall without proof
And I envy their chaos, their dumb little stares
They never pretend that they’re going somewhere
And I try not to break, but I bend out of frame
In a town with no pulse, just repetitive names
They said “find yourself” like I’m hiding, you know
But I’m stuck where the paperweight sky tells me so
Every room hums in a different key
Every door is a trap that still opens for me
I’m not lost—I just don’t belong
To the place or the person I’ve been all along
So I sit with the static and half-melted clocks
Count out my days in invisible chalk
Not waiting for something, not waiting to go
Just watching the weight of the sky press me low