i always want you to remember the signs 

given the many times they've appeared before 

like a silent wave in the night, swallowing me whole 

with such softness that you would ever know 

unless i told you. 

but in the end i'm the only one that remembers. 

remembers the moments where everything was still 

except for the fuzzy TV static blanketing my vision. 

the moments where i lay on my roof in the dark 

and two kinds of clouds covered two kinds of light. 

the moments where i didn't wish for anything 

except for you to be there next to me

and quiet the loudness of my thoughts. 

after all, it's me being forced through the signs, 

not you. 

should that mean that i am responsible? 

i really have no idea 

i wish i knew 

i wish you knew 

i wish you saw 

the signs. 

1:36 p.m.