After

After
by me(whatever)
to Calc.

Taking my past apart in pieces,
laying every gear across on the table.
As they are not spinning any more,
I can't tell if I'm sad or happy.

The miracle of each of us being born,
is a miracle we take for granted as we live on.
Parents, siblings, friendships
tied together by small coincidences.

As a child the world seemed to work,
in a way that assured a fairytale ending.
I don't know if I believe in fate,
but the world ended on that February's eve.

Now that I look at everything from afar,
it feels like a strangers life.
Every scar we've dealt eachother,
has healed over in the passage of time.

After it's all been said and done,
it wasn't a knife I ended picking up.
If I were to sing my last song,
it would only be a song of loss.