these days are whispers hidden with melodies of scholar hearts beating faster with every footstep on the side of the mountains, going up and down across the windswept earth. up and down.
everyone's reaching for memories and happiness scattered across the pages of lights shining through the fog from distant towers that might not even exist.
"don't you quit, don't you dare quit," she told me with anger in her eyes a desperation in her voice (how little she knows of my rebellious heart) I sunk deeper inside to a hollow pit of murky waters same as yesterday.
it seems I'm losing myself to a fear of falling to the hard surface of peoples' thoughts and I've been told it isn't right
here in the cupboard I've a basket of flowers no one knows about growing heavier with an aching need for another home and here I am again, perpetually stuck at crossroads not knowing who to give them to.
not knowing is a stone in my lungs