It was 7 different windows this past year.
How many more countries will i run to, then escape?
How many more cities will i adopt then give away?
How many more people will i kiss with an accent?
Will i love with made out love?
The emergency contact on my forms is not real, it’s been too long, i couldn’t remember anyone’s phone.
How many more plans will break apart?
How many more mistakes will turn out to be good?
And my telephone rings less and less, i’ve changed my number too many times, people don’t even know where i am.
How many more languages, strange dishes, beds, drinks, weathers?
How many more boys with strange names?
How many more houses where i don’t even unpack?
How many more windows need to be opened?
Before i finally get that the one closed is me.