Moving Day Lyrics

It's strange, isn't it

How a space can feel so warm, and vibrant, and safe

Until a person moves out, taking everything with them

The couch, the plants, the coffee table

Those same four walls now feel devoid of energy when the counters are bare

As if you never made peace with your reflection in the bathroom mirror

As if you never held your head over the warm stove

indulging in the smells of him making you breakfast

The morning you vowed to yourself that food will no longer be used as a punishment

The lemon, the clove, the garlic

When no trace of that amber candle floats in the air

As if you did not write your best poems there

Speaking new life into a dead thing

Resuscitating memories with black ink

Coastline, cliffside, ocean audience

Don't you remember

He took a mental snapshot with his hands, the hikers almost caught us

As if he didn't grip onto your hips, holy as a hymn

Palms pressed to your skin in low light, a kiss exchanged between ankle bones

I arrived at this address, a burning house

Now I walk out an ocean

It's strange, isn't it

These walls seem so lonely despite the yellow I painted them

All energy is gone from the space I once healed in

As if none of this ever happened

Which leads me to believe that home is not a place

But a person