fall withers
we are retort
mind over much
our dreams are still
caught on television
I wouldn't even if I could
so why do I complain?
I need the time
needed the pain
and a strong arm to keep me
from getting burned completely
the winter comes
with each moontide
I like to ride in my car
and pretend
I am the music
even when it's sick outside
I still like to pretend
some part of the story is still alive
and then the snow comes
I dive right in
with my new black boots
wondering where you could be
wondering about soul mates
and things that use to make me hurl
now it almost makes me blush
could it be?
is it ever?
not like I know
not like I dare
question it any further