Not sure anymore.
Split the path. Go off-road.
But these tires won't last.
Can't keep extracting tomorrow's glue from broken yesterdays.
That's no good.
She matters. Alot.
Never saw safety or silence when I dropped this veil.
But we all know patience is the art of calmly watching your dreams die.
The heat is on, but this wax is good for at least another 6 months.
Torching my memories, drip-through, life-like tragedy in solitude.
Unwavering total attraction.
When she picks up, I'm on fire.
"Hello?" becomes a hand-stitched hallmark card from what Christians drew their heaven from, bathed in divination and the reflection of beautiful pale skin and the places where the red shows.
I like the red anyway.
Starving for you like thin children in foreign countries.
I've filled my lungs with wishes.
And when the ground runs out, I'll fly or I won't.
At least I tried.
And that will be my legacy.
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