my spotify wrapped tells me / "you need to go home" / that my year was spent yearning / for people and places i no longer know / but under its breath, / it tells me i need to go out more: / to feel the warm sun on my fingers / as they sprawl out over the grass / to shed the duvet and dried tears / it tells me i need to finally call the psychiatrist / whose number was slipped to me by my mother in law / who has the same, watery eyes as me / she tells me it gets better / as i stare into my water bottle, half empty / but if that's the case / why do we still look the same? / i can try to listen to new music this year / and i'll try to forget the weight / of those songs that vibrate in my soul / but my heart will always sing the same song.