let it fall.

ashes to ashes,
we rain, progress! progress!
but you're no tide
and there's already water
over the bridge
i thought you could be my
life raft/some solid ground
but the holes are many
and i keep searching for
clarity,
some sort of soft resolution.
but you're not the sun
and you're not the april showers
falling from the bottoms of cotton clouds
and i will not sing in
your damn, rainy-day parade.
and i refuse to be seen as my own hangman.
but sometimes there's this loneliness
that makes it feel that i'm the only
one on an iceberg.
and you're no patch of green grass
to lay down and die on.
and you're no sense at all,
no sad, happy, or confused.
but you're still the song,
i'm just not singing anymore.