Dear Runner to the right,
Running. Running. Running. I have barely moved an inch. How did I get so tired? Who am I? When this smoke clears will I be able to tell your ashes from my own? Something will happen, something must happen. Some people have God. Some people have sex. Some people have money. Some people, some people… I have to have this. The idea that the magic of this moment is what all the running was for, is for. I'm here and in this second, I am something. Do you hear me? Sometimes I don't even hear myself. I've been trying to make it for so long I need to believe there is a reason to make it. Do you believe? Clap your hands if you believe!!!!! This isn't about God or sex or money. It's about me and you and knowing that none of those things are really anything if we don't want them to be. This is a big FUCK YOU to everyone and everything that has been trying to break us. This is for when you are tired and lonely. This is for when the loss is a little more than the gain. I am here with you. I am clapping! I believe.
Love,
Me
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fog on the lanes
ReplyDeletecan't cope wit my brain
seing stars out the night
cocked the cock
justify
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we cannot continue in this wayward fashion
you look drunk
that smile will be the death of me
you make me afraid of all the best things
you make me afraid of all the best things
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without you there is no other
with you there are all others
i speak and i talk
no the difference
use your own fucking discreation
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runnoff
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hide that shit NOW