times they are a changing

i don’t want to tell a story here
i just want my thoughts to be words because my thoughts are more than i can handle
but the words almost seem worse, like they’ve been brought to life
they’re scary words, at least to me, when they line up in just the right way
the same way my fucking brain is thinking them, the same way that’s just too much to handle
and it makes me think about how the past few years of my life have been nothing but running away
running from something, not far, far enough to be just out of sight

and i got pulled back, and everything i’d been oblivious to had just stacked up as i flew back toward the center.
and it’s where i’m supposed to be, i know that, i knew that, but
that doesn’t change the facts and the fact of the matter is
i’m scared shitless that my dad might be dying and i’ve wasted too much time.