(no subject)

[flowermarket]

i am thinking about when i was a child, and i walked through the house on plywood floors and the walls were naked dry-wall.

dont forget where you came from.
i wont forget where i came from.

i am thinking of when i was a child, and i ran outside with bare feet, into the acorn seeds and dried oak-leaves, and the dirt was a masterpiece in my hands.

i am thinking about when i was a child, and i wont forget where i came from. i wont forget where i came from.

i am thinking about when i was a child, and my room was a world of darkness at night, and the linoleum floor was a river of ice, the hallway was a plunging canyon of smooth walls and waterfalls.

i am thinking about when i was a child, and i wont forget where i came from,
no i wont forget where i came from.

and sometimes when i am in sickness, i can hold my childhood in both hands, i can run it between my fingers and i can see it inside my closed eyes

and sometimes when i am in sickness, with my head pressed against the white pillow, i can feel my childhood with both hands, and it grows like a desert in my mouth and my body

it grows like a desert in my mouth and my body
it burns with the distance of fever and lingers in scent on my hair.

and sometimes when i am in sickness, i can taste the sweetness of childhood.
it burns with the distance of fever.
it lingers in scent on my hair.

i am thinking about when i was a child, and i wont forget where i came from.