[The lines of the hands formed a complex map]
Reality strikes
The days pass by
Two lines
Different seasons
Separate stations
[Reality hitting on the rocks]
Curve line erasing the good things of the past
2 drops of water falling on the way to the office
| |
| |
| | Old soundtrack passes over parallel tracks
Theater full, broken line
Days pass and pass
Birthdays pass, not words
Difficult to pretend to be well
No words happen
Places I’m not, line closed
Places you are not, closed line
Romanticism doesn’t feel the same as maps on our maps
2 parallel drops fall
| |
The game hits me against the rocks
You don’t follow me in a straight line
[Reality catches me]
there are no words
there is nothing
thick fog
The same lines
Now they are parallel
Your reality hits
[The lines in my hand no longer form a map]
- Codelandandmore // 4:00 PM ©
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 4:27 PM UTC
[The lines of the hands formed a complex map]
Reality strikes
The days pass by
Two lines
Different seasons
Separate stations
[Reality hitting on the rocks]
Curve line erasing the good things of the past
2 drops of water falling on the way to the office
| |
| |
| | Old soundtrack passes over parallel tracks
Theater full, broken line
Days pass and pass
Birthdays pass, not words
Difficult to pretend to be well
No words happen
Places I’m not, line closed
Places you are not, closed line
Romanticism doesn’t feel the same as maps on our maps
2 parallel drops fall
| |
The game hits me against the rocks
You don’t follow me in a straight line
[Reality catches me]
there are no words
there is nothing
thick fog
The same lines
Now they are parallel
Your reality hits
[The lines in my hand no longer form a map]
- Codelandandmore // 4:00 PM ©
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