#drowseportland

memory (Lyrics by Maya Stoner)

lying in bed, I find an egg

I hold it to the light and see its insides

they’re still there somehow

beneath a pale shell,

that should’ve been broken by now

things like you don’t last too long

look at what the arborists have done

I’ve got no limbs, I cannot hold a thing

I wish you could’ve seen me back when I was strong

This tree is no place for an egg to find it’s home (no place like this)

things like you don’t last too long

far away I climb a hill

make my way up a cement tower

where bad kids in uniform

smoke cigarettes and write curse words

you ask me to write to you

instead I sing this song

but not loud enough to makes its way

across an ocean or a field

you write

but not fast enough

to catch me

“A heartbreaking study of detachment and intimacy imbued with all of the wonder, pain, and uncertainty of returning from an emotional hiatus, like the aural equivalent of blood rushing back to a sleeping limb.” -Noisey