It was only happening to me
Thursday, April 9th, 2026
It wasn’t so long ago, I walked these streets empty-handed,
Singing songs in the lowest key,
Only stopping for the rats to scatter past into the dark,
With, perhaps, a tear to bring home with me.
But the words you bring exit like a sign of relief,
A present I wish I received under the tree,
I let myself spin my own fate into web and story,
Typical, how I bring down the earth over misunderstanding, believing
It was only happening to me,
And you bring the sigh of relief.
Now I walk these streets like the blossoming tree,
Something to look toward, something to breathe,
No more moving the dial between cabin fever and reprieve,
Yes, you give me something to breathe,
And you give me something to see,
Hope is Spring, once again I believe,
And evermore, and evermore,
While I scramble home with the rats, I breathe.