I breathe in the 17th and exhale the 31st.
September makes me feel the weight
of August promises that never come.

You just never come,
unless it's your birthday,
you sing for me and look at me,
and turn around and walk from me.

You drive your life west again
and sing for them and look at them
and meet her there and marry her.

The third came a pretty noise,
the one that said this would be it.
And i sit here and play your voice
for the miles that hold us apart.

I drove down to miami
and prayed on those steps,
from december on the lavender
you looked away but you were there.

I sit on the interstate
contemplate going home
or driving home to you
and i make that choice everyday.

To keep you away
it would be too hard to have you say
to my face
that I am not what you need.

"How do I know you anyway?"
- you'd say.