he isn’t drowning yet

it's always been bridges to me

if it was fabric then it

would be long ago ripped

but I'm just standing here

gazing at the other side

as the sun sets into madness

truth is I've never met anyone like him

there's something brutal in insanity most fail to mention

the way he cannot reach my eyes with his

and the mumbled excuses

reality is perceived

it was never a given

watching him stand over the river

and I can't help but wonder

what he sees past the fog

past the daydreams

and I'll never know what it's like

to have a whole world against me

he's living in defensive

trying to protect me

from the world and from me and from he

I want to patch up his worries

but I'm watching the river rush

knowing to meet him

I'd have to get close

to the running water