I heard a song and a sip
of tea too strong for me,
But I took it anyway
The way bells ring
sometimes only
in the West

I’d like to think time
would wait for me in the
cloud pockets like bags
collecting mail, slow this
down slow me down
So I can feel this

My skin never dries
under the paper raincoat,
And she says, "Well at least
when its wet it can’t cut
you" but she doesn’t know
She doesn’t know that I
would love to bleed

Some colour in the
grey, some ice cream
sandwiches and peanut butter
Some light caught in the leaves
The green

I need some in me

But the paper just molds
to me and tears and makes its
way towards my feet and I’m
not sure what is worse
to be bare or to know that I
am defenseless anyway

I suppose it doesn’t matter
now

It’s always raining
with or without my paper
raincoat and all I can do

is wait