January 2010
keep blowing it
the thought of it it’s the brisk morning wind but who’s going to look at your trophies don’t you remember? no one came over
a tree died today the wind is making your cheek red but don’t you feel so alive fighting the unbearable storm
on any given day you’ll aptly say this room is beautiful and i’m going to stay
strange thing is, I would do it too without pause or a sense of anything but you know better than that I sit back down I’m supposed to
racing racing forgetting what I got
dreams of what? proof of faith and responsibility they are all just stories because I would fail it anyways I’m always dreaming of things too great for me
a forgetful man is never haunted so just get to it this quite concerns you so, knock me unconscious then I’ll be on my way
you should have stayed home known it wasn’t your place careless enough, instead went driving with pollock
young star (goals)
you thought you liked the cloth but it was your face printed on those pages so are you the mind or the body?
