In the next 8 hours, I'll be on the other side of the fjords again,
Making my way to people who've seen me for what I wanna be,
Giving out smiles to unwarranted victims of my trauma dumping,
Bringing all my insecurities while my cold feet track the snow.
After about thirty sunsets, the sunrise that I dread,
Making things that bring me to jump and feel summer in my head,
Turn into winter secrets that I left when the frostbite bit,
A season of daydreaming leading into what feels like an eternal nightmare.
This city shaped the blood and bones that I am,
Long bright nights under the influence of those I regret,
Pacing through countless paths of lefts and rights that my feet pretend to know,
Freezing moments in a small block of depression device.
For now, I'll be on this side of the fjords,
Where my heart beats with the beats of my blood,
Taking smiles from glances of those who've seen me for who I am,
Counting stars while gravity pulls stronger now.