It reminds me of the morning
The day
Where I awoke before everyone else
Curled my hair, painted my lips a bit
Clad in a bright red and black.

Sat outside with just a notebook
Recording my thoughts on the morning
The day
Mentally prepared myself
For what would be the most difficult art
To make
To date.

I predicted August
August we will change up our steps
When the last circuit opportunity has spoken
Can't keep throwing anymore money into the clouds
Would rather save up and see whats next
Hotline bling
There's hotline bling
On the inner seams
Of what I made
And how at the time it meant everything.

Its nearly March now
Time to keep marching on
Cup of coffee
Everything has changed
And I want to believe
I'm 18 times the artist now.