Split

What do you want?
A month?
You need a month to decide on you and I?
A year?
Two? Three?
We got all the time in the world-
at least one of us sees it-
sees it clearly enough to wait.

You got shit.
You got all this shit-
that shit.
You got all this shit and now,
we gotta put it all in boxes.
We gotta put it all on a truck.
We gotta get the fuck outta here.

You see it clear and it'll be fair
if we split it all up.
Not your shit- our shit...
Split up the drive.
As long as we get out
and get out alive
we gotta get this truck full of boxes full of shit somewhere else.

Isn't it practical?
Isn't it crazy- insane?
I go back in a van, I arrived on a plane.
Your shit and my shit
in boxes
in trucks, closets
and garages.

What is "back" now?
which one is "there"
or "here"?
As long as one of us sees it clearly-
as long as one of us cares.
We'll split it all up.

A vast and shattered landscape
remains the same far away.
An escape from the inside, out
will take more than a well-concieved
allocation or logistical success.
You never had to move.