memory breathes.

i’m driving down the old street

i know that house like the back of my hand.

memory breathes

and you’re looking at me with all that pity

and god it’s so embarrassing

and i wish i could forget

i wasn’t supposed to be here this long

listen to me

i have no reason to consider the future

listen to me

i don’t care if you love me

or are worried about me

i just want to live in the woods

that old rope swing doesn’t leave my mind

and the punching bag stays too

i will live in that backyard

it’s all i need

i don’t want your concern

i just want to be free