Trash

I can turn the hand I leave a trail, now I can make it back Keep hold only way I can Tie a rope to hold on to the past I would cross the street Tar is sticking underneath my feet All that time I had Prick my toes on walnuts in the grass Don't want to hold it if it isn't mine forever But I grab onto anything and add it to the clutter What am I doing? Collecting trash I can turn the page Calendar from ten years ago I could never turn away Can't stop watching something getting old What am I doing?