Walking out in the nighttime springtime, needling my way home. I saw Leah on the bus a few months ago. I saw some old friends at her funeral. My steps keep splitting my grief through these solipsistic moods. I should call my parents when I think of them, I should tell my friends when I love them. Maybe I shoulda gone out a bit more when you guys were still in town. I got too caught up in my own shit, that’s how every outcome’s such a comedown.