Planted

Flat-back
We laid out on the floor
In the pitch black
Of the early morn'
You said, "Hold this lightly, things tend to erase"

But sometimes, it gets away from me

So I try my best to plant my feet

But it's getting harder to tell
If I'm even here
Think I'll go away for a while
See if I grow

But the ground keeps shifting under me

So I try my best to let things be

Struck match
Lit our empty room
And the hot wax
Smelled like her perfume
And she said, "Breathe in easy, there's no rush"