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The Cake was good.                                                 Sweet and moist like good kisses are too, slightly mysterious...                                                                            regarding where it came from, or how, specifically, it was created. We ATE IT UP!            for fun                         and we threw the rest of it ON THE GROUND. ...                                               ...for respect.                                    All the while I expected it wouldn't be my last birthday, or my last anniversary, in this lake of open arms and forgiving faces.                           forgiveness faces a tough crowd today.I know I've built bridges and tunnels through ways around it. Down there I feel like a Canary,                                                    chokin' to death,                                                                               hopin' to catch sight of the sun one more time                                                                                         prayin' for speed...enough to save me. Up top I feel like a tightrope walker, cuz we make the smallest sacrifices, it seems like, at the time.                                  For the smallest differences.                                But that time was a lot lighter, and it either piles up, or moves forward, and either way you're leaving that bridge behind, I don't think I burned it, but I know time will...                                                                            Crumble Everything.                Gosh you look so scared, lighten up, it was a joke. I ain't leaving this world or my freedom without you.                                                           I can't blame you.                   Was scared too.                                    Terrified, black with ice frozen on the tunes I used to hum                                                                                                                             from my Canary little heart,                                                                                                                                                                    Start                                                                                                                                                                    Testing                                                                                                                                                                    me.                 See if I care.                           I do, and I'll prove you right About one thing. Logic: Comfort from predictability. Paradox: The predictability of growing. Cliche: Home is where the heart is,                          isn't it? Thoughts?          ...and dreams Sleep:    ...Always better with you. Remorse?              Maybe a little. Conclusion? I spent a whole lot of time in a place, learning how to: life.                                                                                            And I spent the last day there, ever,                                                                                                expecting warm and sad nostalgia.                                                                                                                  It was frightening and dark, that                                                                                        midsummer's day.                                                                                 Now I'm somewhere completely new.                                                                                          Unfamiliar at best.                                                                          Looking down the bed at you,                                                                                           Putting me through this test.                                                                                           Sleep, you need your rest.                                                                                           It takes a lot out, to grow, so fast.                                                                                           To finally come to know, at last.                                                                          That you, are home.
0
Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 2:41 AM UTC
Home (Part Six)
The Cake was good.                                                 Sweet and moist like good kisses are too, slightly mysterious...                                                                            regarding where it came from, or how, specifically, it was created. We ATE IT UP!            for fun                         and we threw the rest of it ON THE GROUND. ...                                               ...for respect.                                    All the while I expected it wouldn't be my last birthday, or my last anniversary, in this lake of open arms and forgiving faces.                           forgiveness faces a tough crowd today.I know I've built bridges and tunnels through ways around it. Down there I feel like a Canary,                                                    chokin' to death,                                                                               hopin' to catch sight of the sun one more time                                                                                         prayin' for speed...enough to save me. Up top I feel like a tightrope walker, cuz we make the smallest sacrifices, it seems like, at the time.                                  For the smallest differences.                                But that time was a lot lighter, and it either piles up, or moves forward, and either way you're leaving that bridge behind, I don't think I burned it, but I know time will...                                                                            Crumble Everything.                Gosh you look so scared, lighten up, it was a joke. I ain't leaving this world or my freedom without you.                                                           I can't blame you.                   Was scared too.                                    Terrified, black with ice frozen on the tunes I used to hum                                                                                                                             from my Canary little heart,                                                                                                                                                                    Start                                                                                                                                                                    Testing                                                                                                                                                                    me.                 See if I care.                           I do, and I'll prove you right About one thing. Logic: Comfort from predictability. Paradox: The predictability of growing. Cliche: Home is where the heart is,                          isn't it? Thoughts?          ...and dreams Sleep:    ...Always better with you. Remorse?              Maybe a little. Conclusion? I spent a whole lot of time in a place, learning how to: life.                                                                                            And I spent the last day there, ever,                                                                                                expecting warm and sad nostalgia.                                                                                                                  It was frightening and dark, that                                                                                        midsummer's day.                                                                                 Now I'm somewhere completely new.                                                                                          Unfamiliar at best.                                                                          Looking down the bed at you,                                                                                           Putting me through this test.                                                                                           Sleep, you need your rest.                                                                                           It takes a lot out, to grow, so fast.                                                                                           To finally come to know, at last.                                                                          That you, are home.
orion-schwalm
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Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 2:41 AM UTC
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