Rush Time

Phone call. Plane to Spain. Run, there's no time. Six hours. Barcelona in front of me. Mom waits for me. All becomes a blur. Funeral. People worrying, people asking, people hugging, people kissing. I feel nothing, I'm not here, I'm not there. I'm frozen. Day gone, now friends surround me, friends asking, friends hugging, friends kissing. I still can't feel anything. Surrounded by people yet feeling alone. Somehow that feels right, loneliness, that's what I want, I wanna be on my own, or do I? I don't know. Maybe is the city, maybe it's not.