Low…
It’s that very thought that I’ve neglected to mention.
The one you see in my head,
The one that’s bandaged because of ugly bruises,
And open sores:
No escape for the kind.
August…
I entered my dreams with haste and you sat there,
Strapped in for the ride,
For the rise,
In my high,
Every time:
I hoped.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 8:37 PM UTC
Low…
It’s that very thought that I’ve neglected to mention.
The one you see in my head,
The one that’s bandaged because of ugly bruises,
And open sores:
No escape for the kind.
August…
I entered my dreams with haste and you sat there,
Strapped in for the ride,
For the rise,
In my high,
Every time:
I hoped.