Everything right now

seems so wrong

the guest room door

being open all along.

Those careless steps and slams

through the window we go

The orange streetlight

not the only one that knows.

Sunken in the sand so deep

we held our breath

immersed our feet.

Regrets we left so far behind

like our clothes on the sand

they were hard to find.

I just need a scapegoat

and someone to say

I wasn’t so wrong

to run away.

It’s hard to say sorry

for that warm Topsail night

When staying seemed so wrong

And freedom seemed right.