We should have known to look for you.

You're not there anymore, it seems.
You left behind tattered old seams.
Your empty chicken dinner pan,
You filled with empty soda cans.
Your cigarette lighter waits for
You. You wont be coming back for
Your stuff though will you? Someone took
You and no one bothered to look.

I'm twenty-seven when I see
You again. You may be thirsty;
I grab you water, just in case.
You decline, in case its unsafe.
I leave with more than I can drink.
You, in the shade, don't even blink.
I sit in my car and research.
You still sit in your lonely perch.

Is somewhere a world where we could all see,
that the one on the corner could've been me?

They're people. Someone's uncle or daughter
turned away, turned to squalor, turned squatter.
How many souls must hunger to the grave
before we admit our greed is depraved.
How many camps can we idly walk past
before we decide that "this one's the last?"

Same. I played it shortly after the death of my Grandmother and it helped me get through the loss. Outer Wilds was a gentle reminder that everything ends but not everything is forgotten.

All the little victories
All the little histories
All the little lost chances gone
All the little days float on

I used to dread ends of months
But I loved this one, for once.

"I'm fine.", You're fine! We're FINE,
but, when you leave, I cry
the most. This heart of mine,
can't handle your "Goodbye!"
Next time, don't give that line,
It's a callous white lie.
If this is truly fine,
I should stop coming by.

"It's okay" like you say
When your failing, but feign
The status of your day,
So I'll stay in my lane.

"It's good" just like you play
That I didn't just stain
Our friendship red that day.
I drew first blood, in vain.

Will fantasized experiences
Remain nothing more than figment
Or is there the chance that I could
Live the life I dream. A life meant
To be spent with you, if you would.

So now, I am lost at twenty-eight
feeling behind or running late.
I'm perturbed by my life's state,
stuck aimlessly in self debate.

Clots up my entire life. If I’m bitter,
Know it isn’t that I’m I’ve become jealous
It’s the countless thorns that poke and litter
My hand with scars, that have made me callous.

Or the times you show me a song
That make me feel we could belong
While I realize, without doubt,
you're the girl the songs are about.

Give me one last pitiful cry,
Before I bid the day goodbye.
I know you'll be in my dreams too
Haunting my rest, it's just like you.

Falling deeper into
A damp pit named despair,
Struggling to clamber to
Surface where you're not there.

We eventually
Rose back to a world now
Foreign and helplessly
Wandered alone somehow.

The framing rule of mine.
I mean, it’s not divine,
It’s a verbal play space
With no fail state. I place
The requirements and then
Perform to my own ends.