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Somewhere between floating and falling. Too numb to feel myself. I play pretend so no one has to, while my heart sits on a shelf. My kindness is not weakness, nor is innocence my game. But no one ever sees me, they just simply know my name. Here I am, a woman, in a worn out pair of shoes. I never learned to play guitar, or I would strum the blues. And I'm carrying my roots since I can't find solid ground. I'm just blowing in the winds with all the other sights and sounds. The world gave me music, and what I capture with my lens. And it's the beauty that I find, that always pulls me back in. I know that train is leaving, and I haven't got a dime. Something grab ahold of me, because I'm running out of time.
0
May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012 at 3:16 AM UTC
Shutter
Somewhere between floating and falling. Too numb to feel myself. I play pretend so no one has to, while my heart sits on a shelf. My kindness is not weakness, nor is innocence my game. But no one ever sees me, they just simply know my name. Here I am, a woman, in a worn out pair of shoes. I never learned to play guitar, or I would strum the blues. And I'm carrying my roots since I can't find solid ground. I'm just blowing in the winds with all the other sights and sounds. The world gave me music, and what I capture with my lens. And it's the beauty that I find, that always pulls me back in. I know that train is leaving, and I haven't got a dime. Something grab ahold of me, because I'm running out of time.
tara-ewer-1
Written by
American
May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012 at 3:16 AM UTC
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