What now?
When I bike back from your house the question lingers in the air,
It asks what's going down?
What exact chain of events led to this,
This spinning top that's not quite hit the ground?
So
I walk back upstairs to get my water and collect
What's left of my belongings I left behind,
I feel the carpet move and ask
Are you around?
And then silence and space
That asks what now?