The Woods

I can’t remember much, except how dark the woods are
When you ask me, how I am

I am a sponge, trying to be a wolf
A wolf, who is sometimes the hummingbird who is sometimes the wolf
The hummingbird who is the sponge who is a hummingbird
I am everything, I am nothing, I am
Bending to the wind because it is safer, not really even easier
My feet are sluggish and I am lazier

I can’t remember much, except how dark the woods are
When you ask me, how I am
I don’t know.

I try imagine your face
It is foggy upstairs

I love the songs I sing as the hummingbird
I can remember things then
I can’t own things then.

I can own things as a wolf.
I can’t remember things then

I am a wolf and a hummingbird as the sponge.
My wings are large but they weigh me down
I hate them for tipping me over.

But I cannot remember it, only how dark the woods are.

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