private apocalypse

If you were looking for a sign

Here I am

I’m starving for knowledge

While you’re trying to escape

Davy Jones’s locker 

Of information

He’s as alive as anything but

For some reason he isn’t

Swimming against the stream

She’s back under our bridge

Drawing more graffiti

Because the child in her

Survived

This foolish journey

Oh honey, don’t you know I’m sorry