Waller, Military, Canyon, Portland.
It seems I'm falling back into old pasts, long last half masts.
We will learn to love the things we hate. We will leave failure awe struck by our will to fall faster than gravity. We'll leave it pouring all over its self crying as we cut it to the chase. We'll not even let the ground dictate the scope of our failure. No, we'll fall past the ground leaving snow angels in the dirt, our perfect negatives.
We'll decide how far we fail; hailing ourselves our own makers by the simple fact that he who can destroy a thing controls it. We may never have been able to direct our accent but this falling we can manage; of this we'll take helm. Knowing well that, even our failure has limitations, we'll embrace them.
This is how we do.
We will learn to love the things we hate. We will leave failure awe struck by our will to fall faster than gravity. We'll leave it pouring all over its self crying as we cut it to the chase. We'll not even let the ground dictate the scope of our failure. No, we'll fall past the ground leaving snow angels in the dirt, our perfect negatives.
We'll decide how far we fail; hailing ourselves our own makers by the simple fact that he who can destroy a thing controls it. We may never have been able to direct our accent but this falling we can manage; of this we'll take helm. Knowing well that, even our failure has limitations, we'll embrace them.
This is how we do.