The Same Differences
The wrong people told us we were right
So we carried our ears forward
Leaning into sounds we favored;
Those which favored us.
We never lived beneath the tracks
We never had a friend
Who was ended by a bullet
Or a broken needle
Bleeding memories onto
The pages we write.
I can’t answer your cry
With words
That will change your past.
I haven’t lived
The life I didn’t want,
You needed that for yourself;
So you write without your answers
Questions no one bothers to ask
And I write my stories the same as you
With disappearing ink.
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