of idle, and creed

i sit on the bench and there's no way to run

i sit on the bench and look at the cross

i sighed 

not in defeat, but somehow turning in

my eyes heavy and my heart teeming with everything yet it never felt fuller than this

i sit on the bench and there's no way to run

and i admire your face

the sun shines softly and thinly through the air

while your prayers are sealed in candles wax

still, i sit on the bench

and there's no way to run

my legs are stuck on the ground and my palms are pressing against each other

but there aren't any destinations i dwell on anymore

let it just be here, holding space for rooms to grow

let me just sit on the bench,

because there's no way to run

but here