The Waiting

I load the program on my phone to find some proof that I have ever been known

Some concert footage, some rubber plants, some year's first snowfall and a high school dance

A thousand memories at once

With all the distance in between folded over to conceal the seams

Fooling myself with everyone else, misrepresenting any truth I had to tell

And all the hours on the shelf

Always underestimating, I guess I shouldn't be surprised

Feels like I'm accelerating, moving only with the tides

I wash up on some foreign shore, no indication of what came before