Monday, April 04, 2005
posted by forrestrose @ 3:29 AM

every day I wake up
to the afternoon telling me
it's just too late to move

I'd wake up to the morning light
but I cannot stand to waste the night
I cannot take the feel of direction


under my shell
I'm soft and frail
over all this stone
is a place that should've been home
but I know it'll never come close

every day I end up waiting
for the world to stop rotating
because I can't pick up the pieces all alone

Comments (0):


<< Home

<< Hide
Receive notification of
updates via email:
Powered by

preview message format